Vengeance
by Jaenelle Angelline
Summary: FINISHED. Last book in the Doctor Ryan saga. Please read 'Doctor Ryan' and 'Silver Blade' before reading this one thanks! Read and review please!
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1: The Acolytes

Magneto stared inside the chamber. "How is she?" he asked.

Amelia Voght checked the readouts again. "She's still alive, Lord," she said with just a touch of irritation. It was the third time he'd asked her that in an hour.

He stared at the chamber in front of him. A dim figure hung silently in the center of the tank, encased completely in swirling liquid. "Please be careful, Amelia," he said. "We want to kill the organism, not the girl. How long has Sara been submerged?"

"An hour, Lord Magneto," she said. 

"How are the organisms doing?"

She bent over another screen. "They are definitely slowing down. The computer estimates that at least sixty percent of them are dead now. Your hunch about the lowered temperatures was correct, Lord."

Magneto sighed. It had been a week now since they had picked up the young mutant woman off the surface of the planet. He had to time it carefully, waiting until Lilandra and Charles had gone, before he went to the small silver craft, stole a spacesuit, and gone down to the surface. He had found Sara, unconscious but alive, caught out of her fall by a rocky outcropping jutting out from the face of the sheer drop into the lava pit. She had been brought up to his ship, where he had tried to revive her using the mind probing technology he had based loosely on Charles's Cerebro. When he did, though, all he could 'hear' from her mind was the cacophony of a thousand voices screaming in anger and fury in her mind. Sara herself had just lain there, blank-eyed, staring, unmoving. So Magneto had begun trying numerous ways of separating her from the organisms. When that failed he played a desperate hunch. 

The surface of the planet was so hot, and the creatures were so used to that heat that Sara felt intensely cold in normal room temperature. Magneto remembered seeing her back at Xavier's mansion in the middle of June shivering in a sweatshirt and coat. Maybe if the temperature dropped low enough around them they would die. And since the human body was capable of surviving in cold temperatures, he had submerged her into a vat of arctic-temperature water, freezing cold. 

The organisms had begun dying, slowly at first, then more rapidly, with each immersion in the freezing water. The amount of the silvery flexible metal on her skin hadn't diminished, but the level of noise in her mind was gradually decreasing in volume.

"Bring her out," he said finally. "Her body temperature's getting lower. If she stays in there too long she'll freeze. We'll give her a couple of hours before we put her in the tank again." Voght touched the appropriate buttons, and the apparatus that Sara was strapped to rose dripping from the tank. Magneto caught it as it swung free, and took the oxygen mask from her mouth and nose. He wrapped her in a thick towel, lifted her clear of the apparatus, and placed her on a nearby bed. Voght sealed the tank as he mindprobed Sara again. The voices were all nearly silent, now. He could hear a faint cry of despair from one of the organisms, but it was like a drop of sound compared to the ocean of noise he had heard when he had first picked her up from the surface of the planet.

"Not many left, now," he said in satisfaction, draping a blanket over her. He took a moment to stroke her hair, unaware of the sharp look Voght was giving his back. Her hair had been long, waist length, when she came aboard. But it floated in the tank, and was too heavy, and he'd felt a pang of regret when Amelia had cut it all short to her shoulder. He'd braided one lock of it and kept it, secretly, and wondered what he was doing.

Had he only known it, Amelia was thinking the same thing. There was very little love lost between the Acolytes and the X-Men, but Magneto and Professor Xavier were old friends. That had been a long time ago, though. Now, although sometimes they all found themselves on the same side of the line, more often than not they were at odds with each other. Why was Magneto now saving one of Xavier's students? She didn't know, and she suspected that Magneto didn't know either. "Let's let her rest, Amelia," he said. His red-haired Acolyte and lover left the console and followed him out into the hallway.

There was silence going down the hall for a while, and then Magneto said, "You are wondering why I'm trying to save her."

"The thought had crossed my mind, Lord Magneto," Voght said carefully.

He walked on in silence for a time. "I don't know, Mia," he said. "I guess maybe I feel sorry for her. There was a great deal in the papers about her divorce to that Senator, and the kind of treatment he subjected her to. Imprisoned and tortured…I see her and think about my own past, and I want to help her. It's not much of an explanation." He stopped at the intersection of a corridor and turned to her. "Please let me know when you're ready to put her back in the tank. I'm going to get some rest." He turned off down the corridor to his own room.

He let the door close behind him and sighed. He couldn't bring himself to say what he really felt, and he was glad that Voght couldn't see his face. He felt a strong attraction to the young woman in the medlab; had, in fact, since he saw her looking so vulnerable at the mansion. And despite what he had told her, when she had removed her clothes he had admired her trim, slender body. She was a beautiful woman. He sat back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking.

Voght returned to the medlab, staring for a while at the somnolent figure on the table. She was, by nature, a possessive woman. When she'd seen Sara at Xavier's mansion and saw the way Magneto looked at her, she'd fought the urge to scratch the other woman's eyes out. She didn't want to share Magneto with anyone, let alone this skinny short little black-haired witch.

She went over to the console to check the readouts. Magneto had asked her to keep the water in the tanks at thirty degrees. Any lower, and if the time Sara spent in the tank wasn't shorter, she could get hypothermic. A sudden surge of jealousy guided Voght's hand to the temperature controls. Seconds later the temperature readout started dropping. Not much, just a few degrees, from thirty to twenty six degrees. It didn't look like much, but when Sara went back into the tank she would slip into hypothermia in forty-five minutes. Hopefully she wouldn't survive, then Voght wouldn't have to worry about her and Magneto. With her mouth set in a thin line, she left the medlab.

An hour later they were back. Voght's heart nearly skipped a beat as he crossed the room and paused by the console. Surely he wasn't going to check the controls! But he didn't, going instead to the tank, and just stood there for a moment, looking at it. Then he got Sara secured to the immersion frame again, positioned the oxygen mask over her face, and signaled Voght to lower her back into the tank.

He stood, just watching, for several minutes, then slipped into her mind via the mindprobe. The noise of the organisms in her mind was definitely almost gone. "This might be the last time we have to put her in there, Amelia," he said. He eased out of Sara's mind, pacing around the tank. He got another towel and a thick warm blanket from the closet, and probed her mind after another half-hour had passed. The organisms had stopped squealing. He felt a moment of satisfaction as he picked up on the background noise of her mind becoming a bit more active. He slipped out and made the bed as Amelia watched the controls.

When he slipped into her mind again he became alarmed. There was no background hum from Sara's mind. None at all. There was nothing there but a blank emptiness that scared him. "Amelia!" he gestured. "Take her out, now!" The machine moved, but too slowly for him. He raised a hand, manipulated the magnetic field around the metal structure, and the frame almost exploded out of the tank. He rushed to her, stripping the oxygen mask from her face and pulling her free of the frame. Her skin was ice cold. Too cold. She shouldn't have been this cold. He took a swift glance at the temperature controls as he went by with her. The readout said twenty-six degrees. He cursed inwardly; he'd have to talk to Amelia about carelessness.

He dropped Sara on the bed and wrapped her in the towel and blanket he'd brought. The beds of her fingernails were turning just the faintest shade of blue. Cold. She was too cold. He had to warm her up before her body shut down. He lifted a hand and a portable heating unit in the corner swung up to the bed and turned on obediently. But it wasn't enough. He sought frantically for another heat source. "Mia!" he barked. "The heat blanket in my quarters! Hurry!" As she ran out, he pulled his shirt off and lay down beside Sara, pulling her nude body close to him. He gasped as the icy skin touched his own warm bare flesh, then gritted his teeth and braved it, pulling her closer. And that was how Voght found them when she came back with the electric heating pad. Her face twisted in hatred for a moment before she schooled her expression and forced herself to walk calmly across the floor to give the blanket to Magneto. 

He switched it on and wrapped it around both of them, feeling the need for the warmth himself after close contact with Sara's icy skin. "Mia, the temperature controls were too low. The water in the tank was down to twenty-six degrees. She should have come out of the tank twenty minutes ago. Did you check the temperature before we put her in?"

Voght arranged her face in what she hoped was a properly submissive expression. "No, Lord Magneto," she said. "I didn't. I'm sorry."

"Be more careful next time," he snapped, then turned his attention to the girl in his arms. Voght exited silently.

Out in the hall she ran into another one of the Acolytes. "Amelia!" Carmella Unuscione called to her. "How is Lord Magneto's pet doing?"

"Better," Voght said shortly, stalking off down the hall. She didn't fool Unuscione. 

"Don't like her, huh," the other woman said as she followed Voght down the hall.

"No. I don't." Voght said shortly. 

Unuscione leaned in to her, stopping her. "Neither do the rest of us," she whispered conspiratorially. "Come down to the mess hall. We're having a meeting about how to get rid of her."

"Get rid of her?" Voght reversed direction suddenly, turning to the direction of the mess hall. "Is that what I think it means?"

"Yeah. Kill her, or send her back to the X-Men where she belongs," Unuscione sneered. "My choice? I'd rather kill her."

"I tried to." Voght said.

Unuscione whirled. "Whoa. You? How?"

"I turned the temperature down on the tank. I hoped she'd freeze to the point where her body would shut down. But Magneto was probing her mind with the mindprobe machine and got her out of the tank before she died. That damn machine. I'm going to rip it up."

She rounded the corner and into the mess hall. "Okay, guys, I tried to take her out. You all tell me what you're going to do."

They all started to talk at once, and she waved them into silence. "You first," she pointed to Neophyte, who was idly phasing a knife through the table. And they all started to plan the death of the young woman who was just now waking, blinking confusedly, in Magneto's arms.

She rose slowly through the layers of darkness that wrapped themselves around her mind. It was warm where she was, and dark, and quiet, and the voices that had tormented her for so long were gone. She moaned, tried to turn away from the light that assaulted her eyelids, but it refused to go away, and she finally opened her eyes. "What…" her voice was hoarse, and rusty, and she cleared her throat twice before her voice came out coherent. "What am I doing here?" she blinked as the warm body stirred beside her, and for just a moment she had a vision of a muscular, dark-haired, gruff man with a feral smile and gentle hands. The actual sight of a tall, muscular man with silver hair and a slight smile replaced the vision. She returned the smile uncertainly and tried to keep her voice from quivering as she asked, "Who are you?"

"Don't you remember? I'm Charles's friend Magneto."

"Who's Charles?" she asked puzzled.

Magneto sat up and looked into the one violet eye and one white one, uncertain. "Don't you remember, Sara? Your friend, Charles Xavier?"

"Sara?" she frowned. "Is that my name?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" he looked at her, narrow-eyed. "Okay. What's the last thing you can remember?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't remember anything," she whispered uncertainly. "Honest, I don't." Her face crumpled as if she were going to cry, and he wrapped his arms around her. For just a moment, she remembered another pair of arms, covered with short, dark, wiry hair, holding her just as close, just as tight, and saying, "Ssshh, it's going to be okay." The vision disappeared even as she tried to chase it, but that gave her a headache and she gave up the attempt.

Magneto was faced with a dilemma. How was he to get her memory back? They were still stuck in alien spaces, and he didn't know how to operate any of the alien machinery on the ship. Sara had taken the alien ship here, and they had simply followed her through the stargate. She would have to remember how they got here before she could get them back. Until her memory came back they were trapped here. And usually, when someone lost their memory showing them familiar items would help bring it back. But they had nothing here except the clothes she'd come in.

They were stuck.

She had probably lost her memory when she hit the rocky outcropping. He had seen a sizable lump on the back of her head when she first came aboard. It seemed to be gone now, and hopefully the loss would only be short term. Meanwhile, however, she was probably hungry. "Come on," he said, getting out of the bed, pulling his shirt on, and handing her clothing to her. She pulled them on over her body and followed him out the door of the medlab.

They found the others sitting in the room on the ship they called the mess hall. The wave of hostility she felt from the others was almost palpable, but he didn't seem to notice anything unusual. "Sara," he said, holding out a hand to a hard-eyed woman with striking red hair, "this is Amelia Voght." For just a moment, Sara's odd double vision showed her another room, a brightly lit kitchen, and another red haired woman with a kind smile. She shok her head to dispel the vision and concentrated on the here-and-now. "Amelia, Sara's just woken up. She doesn't remember anything, though. See what you can do to jog her memory." he smiled at Sara kindly. She gave him her best unsure-but-game smile, and turned to meet the others as he went out.

Their stares got a lot colder after he left. "Cargill," said a dark-skinned woman from her seat at the table. 

"Katu," boomed a scowling man with a bionic arm sitting next to her. The two identical men sitting beside him were the Kleinstock brothers, Sven and Harlan, and next to them, the demonic-looking green being snarled around a mouthful of sharp teeth, "Melloncamp." The next man down identified himself as Neophyte, the blond was Scanner, and the next two were Unuscione and Spoor. Sara's breath caught in her throat as the last figure stood and she saw the whip hanging by his hip. She could hardly breathe as he said, "Senyaka."

Her mind suddenly dredged up a vision of a handsome man raising a similar whip over his head and smiling cruelly as he brought the whip down. She screamed as a burning pain erupted between her shoulder blades. 

Voght let her go as her eyes glazed over and she fell to the floor. Sara scrambled into the corner, her eyes seeing nothing but the vision, and she started to scream. They sat silently, watching her cower in the corner of the room for several minutes, before Voght went to the intercom and flicked it on. "Lord Magneto."

"Yes, Voght?"

"Your…guest…is having problems. I think you will want to come down here."

Cargill went over to Sara, tried to touch her arm. "Sara," she said. Sara flinched, staring straight ahead, whispering over and over, "No don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me please don't hurt me…"

Magneto rushed into the room, took one look at Sara crouched in the corner and the others who were obviously not helping her, and his heart sank. She was not going to be able to stay here with him, then, as much as he would like her to. His Acolytes were not going to allow her to stay. Not a former X-Man. He knelt in front of her. "Sara."

She screamed in terror and anger, and lashed out blindly. Her fist struck him across his face, and he reeled from the blow. She was stronger than she looked. Damn.

Sven Kleinstock's plasma burst knocked Sara back into the wall, hard as Unuscione's psionic exoskeleton reached out and grabbed the young woman. Sara flailed and fought her, and Unuscione's grip slipped. Before Sara could try to get away, Senyaka's whip flicked out, curling around her middle, and activated. Sara jerked as the whip began to drain her energy.

"Enough!" Magneto thundered, and everyone froze. "Senyaka, put her down. She didn't mean to hit me. If I'm right she just had a flashback that caused her to lose control. Your reactions were was unexcusable. Sara, are you all right?"

"Yes," she said, shaking her head dazedly, touching the gash on her temple, caused when she'd hit the wall. "Ow. Getting slammed into the Danger Room wall doesn't even hurt as bad." She blinked at him. "Magneto, what am I doing here? Where's everybody? Who are you?" she looked at the Acolytes in bewilderment.


	2. Return

Chapter 2: Return

The computer beeped at Xavier where he sat, looking over the papers on his desk. He reached over and pressed the speakerphone button. "This is Xavier."

"Charles," said a well-remembered voice, "Please open the door to your craft's hanger. Sara and I need to bring her ship in for landing."

"Sara?!" Xavier exclaimed in startled surprise. "But she's--"

"Old friend, I assure you, she is very much alive," came Magneto's voice. "I hope you haven't had a memorial service for her yet!"

Xavier, Jean, Scott, Warren, Storm, and Hank were standing in the door to the hanger as the sleek silver Shi'ar craft settled lightly down on the pad in the middle of the hanger, and the door opened. A smiling Magneto came down the ramp, followed a moment later by a swift running figure that threw herself joyously across the empty space into Jean's arms. "I missed you!" And that broke the dam, and soon they were all laughing and crying at the same time, welcoming Sara back. She wiped her eyes, finally, and looked around. "Where's Logan?" she asked, looking for her beloved.

"He and Betsy went to China to return your sword," Xavier said. "Sara, how did you survive? We saw you fall into the lava pit back on Metar!"

"How long ago did they leave?" Sara asked, ignoring his question. "I'm sorry, Charles, I'll explain when I bring him home, I promise! I have to see him first. I miss him so much," she said, her eyes pleading for understanding. He was about to protest when he saw her face. "Go, then," he said. "Go find him."

Logan stirred. The little pendant around his neck was glowing brightly, as it had so many times since Sara had died. It seemed to do that when he was thinking about her, or when he missed her the most.

He got up, out of the uncomfortable hotel bed, and wandered out onto the tiny balcony overlooking the major portion of the city. Sara's company manager Mark Harmon had told them that this was the hotel and the room that she'd stayed in during her visit here. He felt closer to her somehow, even though it had probably been slept in several dozen times since.

Had it really only been two months? It seemed like a lifetime ago. He felt like he'd aged ten years in the three weeks since she'd been gone. He missed her so much. While she was traveling he'd kept waking up to an empty bed. When she came home he'd slept peacefully at night, except for her nightmares, though they were far less frequent than formerly. Now he had to get used to sleeping alone again. The others had delicately suggested to him that he set her things aside, in the attics, but he'd snarled so much that they'd backed off immediately. He hadn't been able to bring himself to even change rooms.

Betsy got out of her bed silently and joined him out on the terrace. "Couldn't sleep?" she said gently.

"No," Logan murmured. "I keep seein' her on the edge of that cliff, hanging on ta me, countin' on me ta save her. I keep feelin' like there's somethin' else I coulda done ta save her, somethin' else I shoulda done. After everythin' that's happened ta her, everythin' she's suffered, she deserved a bit o' peace. I couldn't give that ta 'er. I tried but I couldn't."

Betsy laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Logan, there wasn't anything else you could do. We all saw that. She just couldn't hang on. We all miss her. But she wouldn't like to see you like this, moping over her. Can you just hear her now? 'Logan, stop being an idiot and start getting on with your life!'"

He smiled weakly, imagining Sara saying just that. "Yeah. Yeah, I can see her sayin' that," he said sadly. And then, as he looked over the railing to the streets below, he thought he saw her, a dark-haired figure getting wearily out of a cab in front of the hotel across the street. But it couldn't be, he thought as the woman walked into the swinging door and was lost to view. _I gotta get some sleep,_ he thought wearily. _I'm starting to see things._

He continued to tell himself firmly that he was seeing things as he and Betsy went to the marketplace Sara had gone shopping at when she had been there last. They wandered around the square twice, Betsy carrying Chang in a large shopping bag. They were just about to give up when Betsy saw a tiny building to the left of a cloth-merchant's stall, and they went inside.

Logan took a deep breath of the incense-laden air, his heart contracting painfully as he picked up the scent of blooming lavender. Sara's favorite scent. He knelt before the image of the Buddha as Betsy did, and then just sat for a moment, drinking in the peace and serenity of the place.

From behind the image came a two monks, dressed in the saffron yellow robes of their order, but one with the addition of a cloak with a hood. Betsy stepped forward, bowed ceremonially, and held out the sword. "The blade has served its purpose, Respected One," she said solemnly. "Our world is safe."

"And what of the Sword's wielder?" The monk asked. "Could she not bring it herself?"

"The wielder has died, Respected One," Betsy said sadly. "She could not bring it herself."

"You lie," the monk said flatly. "She is not dead."

Logan's head snapped up. " Who you callin' a liar!?" he snapped. "I seen her die myself! She fell over a cliff!"

"Perhaps your eyes did not see everything," said the second monk, and Logan froze at the sound of that familiar loved voice. Slender hands came out of the capacious sleeves, and the hood was thrown back, revealing the familiar face, free of the metal veining. Logan staggered a moment. "Sara…" he breathed. "Sara…!" He took two quick steps forward and swept her up in his arms, hugging her fiercely and crying, and he didn't care who saw him cry. It was more than he'd ever hoped for, to be able to touch her again, to feel her arms around his neck, to kiss her soft full lips…

Betsy grinned, giving an exaggerated sigh of impatience and tapped her foot as the kiss went on, and neither one came up for air. Finally she cleared her throat. "Sara I missed you too," she said. Sara let go of Logan and wrapped her arms around Betsy too, hugging her. "I missed all of you!" she exclaimed. "Charles was so surprised when I showed up at the mansion. He's dying to know what happened, but I told him he had to wait until I found you two." She smiled at Betsy but her eyes were full of tears for Logan as he held her tight.

The monk cleared his throat. "Come then," he said. "As the sword now belongs to you, wielder, take it and use it well."

Homecoming had never been so joyous.

The X-Men were waiting to welcome them home. Bursting with impatience to hear Sara's story, they nevertheless restrained themselves for Logan's sake. Sara told Xavier privately that she wanted to speak to Logan first, and he agreed to keep the others busy while they talked.

Logan sat on the end of their bed and stared at her, his heart and mind full of things he wanted to say, and couldn't. He finally settled for a simple "I love you."

Sara reached out to him, everything she felt for him looking out of her eyes, and hugged him tightly as her lips found his again. This time there were no interruptions as they reveled fully in each other's touch. They had restrained themselves on the flight back, mostly for Betsy's sake. "I love you, dearling," she whispered as they finished. 

They rejoined the others in the dining room, and Sara began her story. "I did fall," she began. "But there was a sort of ledge jutting out of the cliff face, and it broke my fall while it gave me a horrible bump on my head. I could hear the voices screaming in my head. They wanted me to throw myself in again, but I couldn't. 

"Magneto followed me through the stargate. I didn't know, and I think the Majestrix was too concerned to really pay attention to anything else. After you had all gone, he went on board the ship and stole one or the space suits inside. He used the metal on my skin to pull me out of the abyss. By then though the voices were overwhelming me, and I couldn't bear it. He said I went into a coma. For a week he tried to get it off my body in any way he could. He pulled at it with his magnetic manipulation, he tried concentrated heat, he tried to cut it off once. Nothing worked. 

"He thought about the surface temperatures on the planet. If it was so hot there, and the creatures were making me feel cold in normal temperatures, then maybe if the temperature dropped low enough they would freeze to death. So he put me in a vat of freezing water for an hour, and found out that it worked. He probed my mind with some technology he came up with on his ship and 'listened' to the noise the creatures were making in my mind. He submerged me in the water five times over three days, and finally the creatures died. Then he used the mindprobe to 'wake' me up. 

"The bump on my head had wiped out my memory completely, for a short time. But his Acolytes didn't want me there, and they tried to get rid of me. Voght deliberately set the temperature controls on the water tank too low, and I almost died of hypothermia. 

"My memory came back when Senyaka attacked me with that whip. I saw it and all the old memories of my…ex-husband…came back. And I knew I didn't belong there.

"Koven left the ship on autopilot. That was how I got here. I wish he hadn't; if he hadn't left it on autopilot I wouldn't have been able to get to Metar. But he had stored the planet's coordinates in the computer, and programmed it to respond only to himself, me and Gero. It has this kind of neat little voice recognition program in it, so all I had to do was order it to take me there. Magneto took me aboard the ship, and I reactivated the autopilot, which then opened up the stargate back here. And that's how I got home."

Logan stared at her. "The metal never came off? But your face…"

Sara reached over and switched off the image inducer strapped to her wrist in the form of a watch. "Charles gave me an image inducer," she said happily. "At least I can look normal, even if I'm not. It'll make doing business easier."

They chuckled wryly, and settled down to tuck into a huge dinner. Sara ate as though she were starving, and Logan thought she must not have eaten since she had left. They all helped with the washing up.

As he lay in bed later watching Sara undress for bed, he noted that she seemed to have gained a little weight. Her stomach wasn't as flat as before, though her arms and legs seemed as thin as they normally were. He got up and slipped behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and burying his face in her hair. "I'm gonna miss yer hair," he said regretfully, picking up her brush and running it through the short black strands. She leaned into his touch, her body, clad in a filmy, sheer white lace nightie leaning against his bare one. She turned suddenly, hugging him so tightly he thought his ribs would crack, and said, "I'd shave it all off permanently if it meant we'd never be apart again."

"Me too," he breathed, tucking her head under his chin and just holding her for a long moment.

She pulled away from him as she felt something dig into her cheek, and frowned as she fished around in his flannel nightshirt for the source. She pulled out the delicate gold star at the end of the chain that held his dog tags and smiled. "You kept it," she whispered.

"Of course," he said. "You loved it so much, it seemed like a little part of you was always with me. I got a new gold chain for it, but I don't wear gold. You can have it back if you want." He reached into her jewelry box and took out the thin but strong gold chain he'd bought a week ago. She let him fasten it around her neck, then kissed him and turned off the light. She led him back to the bed in the darkness.


	3. Discovery

Chapter 3: Discovery

He awoke groggily as the bedsprings creaked under the weight of the person springing off it. He sat up as Sara rushed into their bathroom and fell to her knees in front of the toilet. She retched so hard he thought she was going to throw up her stomach, not just its contents. "Sara!" he hit the floor running, grabbing her bathrobe on the way since she was shivering on the cold bathroom tile. She retched, coughed, and hacked for almost a half an hour, even after there was nothing left in her to throw up. She sat weakly on the floor beside the bathtub, gasping. "Are ya all right?" he asked as she wiped her mouth. She nodded weakly. He reached for a cup on the counter, splashed some water in it, and gave it to her to drink. She gulped it, trying to wash the taste of bile in her mouth, then dropped the cup as she started to retch again. Logan turned and ran out of their room, speeding down the hall.

Storm and Jean were walking down the stairs as he was running up them. "Jean," he gasped in relief, "where's Hank?"

"Still asleep, I think," Jean replied. "What's wrong?"

"Sara's throwin' up really bad," he said. "Did anyone else get sick from anythin' we ate last night?"

"Not that I know of," Jean said. "Come on. Let's go."

Sara was sitting on their bed when they came in. "I'm okay," she groaned. "Just now I've got a headache."

"What did you eat yesterday?"

"Just dinner," she said. "I had a small breakfast at the hotel, but I didn't eat much. I was too worried about finding Logan."

The two women exchanged glances, then Storm said, "Sara, how long have you been throwing up like this?"

Sara thought. "Come to think of it, since I woke up on Magneto's ship."

"Come on," Jean took one of her arms. "Let's get down to the medlab. I'll get Hank up."

Logan tried to follow them, but Jean closed the door firmly in his face and said, "We'll let you know."

He wandered disconsolately into the kitchen, where Gambit was making fried eggs Cajun style. "Logan, you want some o' dis?" he said. Then he saw the shorter man's worried expression. "What de matter, homme?"

Logan growled. "Women."

"Sara?" Gambit said. "She jus' got back, an' you two be fightin' again?"

"No," Logan shot Gambit a nasty look. "She was throwin' up, so I went ta fin' Hank. Jean an' Stormy went to see her, an' got all mysterious, an' took her to the infirmary. They won' lemme in ta see her."

Gambit grinned, which just annoyed Logan more. "It be woman's business, den," he smiled. "Let dem be, Logan. Rogue get like dat, sometime. Better to stay away till dey want ya ta know what be goin' on."

"Does everyone know what's goin' on 'cept me?" Logan growled to the ceiling as Gambit left holding his plate of eggs.

In the infirmary Sara was lying on a bed as Jean touched her slightly swollen abdomen. "Does this hurt?" the redhead asked.

"No," Sara said.

Storm handed Jean a needle. Sara grimaced. "Just a little blood, Sara," Jean said. "For a blood test. Come on, you're a doctor too." Sara grimaced as she felt the needle poke into her arm. She tried to calm her heaving stomach, but as soon as she saw her blood flowing into the tube Jean held, she gagged. Jean got the needle and tourniquet off her arm just in time before Sara ran into the bathroom and threw up again.

"Storm," Jean said quietly, and Storm went in to comfort Sara as Jean went to the lab table in the corner and did a few things to the blood sample.

When Sara came out, Jean was waiting for her with a peculiar expression on her face. "Sara, when did you have your last period?" she asked.

"I don't remember--" and she broke off, eyes wide. "You don't think--"

"Yes," Jean said, and held up the tube. "The blood test doesn't lie, Sara. Haven't you two been…umm…using…?"

Sara spluttered. "I've been taking my pills!" she yelped. Then she blinked, and a slow realization dawned on her face. "Except once, I forgot," she said. "Oh, my God. What do I tell Logan?"

Jean looked puzzled. "Sara, what are you worried about? Just tell him."

"I can't," she mumbled in anguish.

Jean blinked as a confused stream of mental images flowed into her mind. One glance at Storm, and she knew the other woman had gotten them too. "Sara, did that just come from you?"

"What?" Sara looked puzzled.

"You projected, Sara. Like a telepath. How did you do that?"

"I didn't," Sara looked confused.

Jean dropped her shields. "Sara, drop your shields and let me in," she commanded. Sara obeyed, and Jean slipped easily into the upper layer of her mind. And found her answer there. She broke the link, troubled. "Sara. You've acquired telepathy from the Metara while they were active in your body. They used your mind to communicate with us while they were in control, and your mind retained the knowledge of how to use telepathy. I've never seen anything like this before; I mean, I've heard of latent telepathy, but this is beyond anything I've ever seen." She said, "I'll inform Charles so we can start training you in the use of your new power."

"In the meantime, though, Sara, you haven't answered our question," Storm said. "Why are you so afraid? He's not going to kill you!"

Sara shook her head. "You don't understand," she whispered, getting up and pulling on her clothes. She pleaded with them, "Please don't tell anyone what happened. Let me break the news to him first." She was about to leave when Jean called her back. "Sara. Don't wait too long. You're already beginning to show a little right there," and she pointed to Sara's middle. Sara looked startled at her tummy, and then went out. Logan wasn't waiting for her, thankfully, and she went to their room, which was fortunately empty, grabbed her coat, and went outside. 

Xavier found her there later. He sat beside there for a while, not speaking, watching the brightly-colored fall leaves dance in the breeze around them before he said, "Sara. Whatever it is you're worried about, please tell me. It can't be that bad."

She laughed bitterly, a harsh sound. "Yes it can."

He gave her his full attention. "Nothing can be that bad, Sara. What is it?"

She stared at the ground as she whispered , "I'm pregnant."

Xavier blinked. "Sara, that's wonderful!"

"No! It's not!" she got up and paced in agitation. "Look, Charles, it's not the first time I've been pregnant. I got pregnant with Richard's and my first child eight months after we were married. I was ecstatic. I wanted it, so much, but I knew he didn't. So I hid it from him. I thought if I waited to tell him about the child until later, then it would be too late for me to have an abortion. It wasn't until he started cutting back on my meals, saying I was too fat, that I told him. He was furious. Charles, he tied me down and hit me with a baseball bat, over and over, until I miscarried. 

"It was the only time he ever had a doctor in to see me; he got scared when I bled for three days straight. He called a friend of his, a gynecologist, and told him to make sure I never had any more kids. So the doctor put a restraining collar around my neck for three weeks to keep me from healing myself, and waited for nature to take its course. When I did see another doctor two years later, after I left Richard, before I met Logan, he warned me not to get pregnant again. The scar tissue in my body wouldn't be able to stretch enough to carry a baby." She looked anguished. "I don't want to tell Logan. Because he loves me, and he'll love the child, and I don't want him to hate me because I have to get an abortion, Charles, it will kill me to have a child." She fell back on the bench, weeping bitterly, and Charles felt a burst of anger at the dead Senator Ryan. How could he have been so damn cruel to his wife?

"Sara," he said, gripping her shoulder gently, "Is it possible that Richard could have paid the second doctor to tell you not to have any more children?"

"I don't know, why?" she raised a tear-streaked face.

Xavier said determinedly, "I want you to go and see another doctor, get a second opinion. She'll tell you, honestly, whether you can or can't have children. Sara, please don't argue with me, I want to know for certain. And you should know too. Jean and Storm have one in town they go to. Ask them for the number, and go."

Sara bit her lip nervously as she waited in the waiting room to be called. She hated gynecologists' offices; they always brought up horrible memories. When she was finally called in, though, the woman was nothing like the horrible doctor Richard had brought to her all those years ago. Brisk and efficient, she was also kind and gentle. She kept up a steady stream of chatter about various topics, and set Sara at such ease that she barely felt the instruments sliding into her body for the exam. When she was done she left the room while Sara dressed, and came back in only when Sara was decent again.

"Yes, you're pregnant," she said, "and no, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be able to carry a child full term. There is extensive scarring, but the surrounding tissue is still elastic enough that it shouldn't be a problem if it's monitored carefully enough. Whoever the doctor was that told you you couldn't have kids was an ass." She snorted.

"You mean…I can?"

Doctor Graham closed her file folder with a snap. "Yes," she said, smiling. "Now I want you to take this," and she scribbled something on a prescription pad, "up to the hospital and get a sonogram done. You're almost four months along; I'm surprised you didn't realize you were pregnant before now." She ripped out the paper and handed it to Sara, and began to scribble something else. "This, now, I want you to get filled. I want you to take it every evening before you go to bed. It will make you drowsy, so just go straight to sleep after you take it, and you'll wake up in the morning hungry. It'll stop you from throwing up."

Sara walked out of the office, feeling a bit stunned. In one moment her world had been turned upside down, and joy such as she'd never known handed to her. She nearly bounced out to where her car was and drove to the hospital. 

"Hello, Dawn!" she greeted the nurse on duty in the EKG ward.

"Hey, Dr. Ryan!" Dawn smiled. "Come here to work?"

"Uh, no," she said. "I'm here as a patient. Dawn, I'm pregnant!"

"Wow! Congratulations!" Dawn squealed ecstatically. "Is the lucky guy the one with the bike?"

"Yeah," Sara blushed. 

"Lucky, lucky girl," the nurse sighed. "Oh, I wish I could find me one like him! He doesn't happen to have a brother, does he?"

Sara had to laugh. "Unfortunately not," she said.

"Aw, darn," Dawn said in mock unhappiness. "Okay, then. Come on in."

Sara lay on the table, giggling as she felt the warm ultrasound gel being squirted onto her stomach. Then Dawn placed the sensor on her stomach and switched on the screen, and Sara stared as the gray mass began to move. "Is that the baby?" She asked, fascinated.

"Yep," Dawn said. "See that there? There's the baby's head." She put the sensor in a different spot. "There's the spine. And that's…"she paused. "Do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Sara blinked. "Uh, yes," she said. 

"Then this one is a girl."

Sara's eyes filled with tears. "Oh God. Wow, I'm going to have a daughter!"

"And a son."

"What!?" Sara sat bolt upright, dislodging the sensor from her stomach. "I'm what? There's two in there?"

"Yep!" Dawn grinned from ear to ear. "You're the mama of twins."

Sara burst into tears.

She was still in a state of shock when she came home. She went up to Xavier's study and told him what had happened. Jean and Storm walked in in the middle of it and she hugged them. "Your doctor told me I can have kids!" she exulted. "And I went to the hospital to have a sonogram done. Jean, I'm having twins!"

"You're what?" Jean gasped. Storm was similarly stunned. 

"Yes! Twins!" she was almost dancing in place, she was so pleased. "A boy and a girl. Oh gosh, I'm so happy!"

"So when are you going to tell Logan?"

"Right now!" She fairly ran out of the room, searching with her newfound telepathic sense for her beloved.

She found him at their favorite spot, by the lake on the bench. "Logan," she said quietly, sitting beside him. He turned to look at her, and she saw the hurt in his eyes.

"Sara, why didn'tcha tell me?" he said quietly, not looking at her. "It's my child too."

She stared at the ground, her eyes filling with tears as she felt the anguish pouring from him. She had hurt him terribly, and she hated Richard now with a passion, for making her so afraid to trust anyone she would hurt the one person she loved most in the world. "How did you know?" she said quietly.

"I heard you an' Jean talkin' in the medlab." He was quiet.

Sara stared out at the water, trying to find the courage to tell him what she had told Charles earlier. He sat there, not saying anything, waiting for her to speak first. "Logan," she whispered hesitantly, "This isn't the first time I've been pregnant. I got pregnant eight months after Richard and I got married, but he'd already told me he never wanted children. I didn't know what he would do if he found out. So I didn't tell him. I hid it from him until he told me I was getting fat and he told the house staff to make sure I only ate once a day. I told him I was pregnant." She swallowed hard. "He got mad, Logan. He tied me up in the room and he hit me with a baseball bat until I…" 

She gulped back a sob and tried to keep her voice steady. "Until I miscarried. Then he called in a doctor friend of his to put a restraining collar on me until my body healed naturally, without my power. A doctor I went to see after I left him told me I shouldn't get pregnant again because if I did it would kill me. The scar tissue wouldn't stretch enough to allow a child to come to term." She swallowed again. "I didn't want to tell you because I thought my only option was to get an abortion. Charles told me to go and get a second opinion today."

Logan held her tight. He couldn't imagine how it must have felt, to have a child beaten to death inside you. "Sara, I'll be right there with you if you have to. I love you." 

"But I don't have to!" She twisted in his arms to look at him. "I went to Jean and Storm's doctor today. She said as long as I—we—were careful, I shouldn't have a problem. And Logan, we're not having one, we're having two!"


	4. Preparation

Chapter 4: Preparing

He grabbed her shoulders, not quite believing his ears. "What? Sara, yer—havin'—twins—"

She nodded, grinning ear to ear, sadness gone. "I'm going to have twins. I went and had a sonogram done. One's a boy and one's a girl. They'll be here in five more months."

"Five—five—months?" Logan felt like he'd fallen down a rabbit hole. 

She hugged him. "I'm four months pregnant already. I didn't even know."

"I'm gonna be a dad," Logan whispered to himself. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He grabbed Sara, swinging her around in a huge circle. "I'm gonna be a dad!"

The news spread like wildfire around the mansion, so by the time Sara was ready to make the official announcement over dinner, everyone already knew. 

"So which rooms are you guys going to want?" Jean asked.

"Rooms?" Sara looked puzzled.

"Well, you're going to want a separate room for the kids," Scott grinned. "You don't want them to be waking you up all the time at night. The servants' apartment you're living in now won't be big enough for four."

"Oh, dear. I hadn't thought of that," Sara looked distressed.

"And if you choose a room up here with the rest of us, Sara, we can share midnight feeding duties with you," Storm said.

Sara looked a little uncertain. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Of course!" Jean said. "Sara, that's what happens when you live with us. Your business becomes ours. Look, there's a small suite right between our room and Storm's. There's an outer room and a smaller inner one. We could probably put a door in between so you and Logan can have your privacy in the inner room, and we could pop in and out at night and take care of the babies for you. Let's go see it after dinner."

So they did, and Sara and Logan both agreed that it was perfect for their room and a nursery. Full of enthusiasm and still excited, the X-Men helped Sara and Logan to move their things in the same evening. They were all standing around the room trying to figure out where the cribs would go when Gambit piped up. "What you gon' name de kids? You havin' a boy an' a girl, right?"

"Joshua and Catherine," Sara said at the same time that Logan said, "Charles and Megan." They looked at each other.

The others rolled their eyes and left as Logan and Sara began to argue about names. "Charles I can see," Sara said, "But where did Megan come from?"

"That's yer middle name," Logan answered. "An' I like it." He thought for a moment. "Why Joshua and Catherine?"

"Catherine was my mother's name," she said. "And my half-brother's name was Joshua; my mother's first child. He died in a car accident when I was ten."

"Oh." Logan was silent. "How 'bout Joshua Charles, then?"

"Okay," Sara said. "And Logan? I do like Megan. How about Megan Catherine?"

"I like that," And Logan kissed her. One thing led to another, and before long they were in their room, in the bed.

Scott sat upright, blinking. He'd been just about to fall asleep when a wave of heat had washed over him, and he suddenly found himself aching. Jean sat up also, staring into space, then she giggled and rolled over. "It's Logan and Sara," she chuckled. "I have to teach her how to shield while she's having fun."

"Shield?" Scott asked, his mind so fogged by the waves of heat coming from the room next to theirs that he couldn't think straight.

"The Metara taught her mind how to use its telepathy," Jean said, sitting up and wrapping her bare arms around her husband. "Charles thinks she's always had telepathy to a certain degree, that's how she knows which wounds are serious on her patients and which aren't. Her mind just didn't know how to use it until the Metara took control and showed her how."

"Oh," Scott blinked. He couldn't concentrate on anything right now except his wife's chest pressed against his bare back.

Jean giggled. "Well, if that's all you can think of," she murmured, tugging at his earlobe with her teeth, "maybe we should--"

He growled in mock ferociousness and grabbed her, rolling her over in the sheets.

Storm, in the room next to them, was having less of a good time. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she got up and tossed on a light robe, opened and closed her door quietly so as not to disturb the two couples, and glided as quietly as possible down the corridor. She was stopped by a quiet mental command outside Xavier's study door, and knocked gently before she entered. "Couldn't sleep either, Charles?"

"It's a bit difficult with the 'noise' in the mental background," he said dryly. "I'm going to have to get Jean to teach Sara how to 'shield' while they're…enjoying themselves. Sara's latent telepathy was 'awakened' by the Metara; I had no idea this would be the result. We never had this problem with Jean and Scott."

Storm snorted delicately. "That you know of." 

He looked at her, startled. Storm chuckled. "Charles, I have been rooming beside them since I joined the team, except when they lived in the boathouse. The...revelry…tended to leak out every now and then. A word to Jean in the evening would remind her to shield, but when I forgot, well…" she smiled wickedly. "A light rainstorm in their bedroom over the bed tended to…dampen…things sufficiently."

Xavier was torn between laughter and embarrassment. "I never knew you were that uncomfortable, Ororo," he said. "Why did you never tell me?"

She shrugged. "We were all deriving a great deal of enjoyment from Jean and Scott's discomfiture when they had to change their bed sheets in the middle of the night," she cast him a merrily wicked grin. "And it was good practice in controlling my powers."

Xavier cocked his head, 'listening' to the mental currents. "I believe they are done now," he said.

"Then I shall go to bed. Good night, Charles."

"Good night, Ororo," and he sat for a long moment, shaking his head, as the door closed softly behind her.

Sara bounced down the stairs the next morning, bright-eyed and happy. "No sickness!" she exclaimed happily to Jean. "The pills worked."

Jean seized her arm and pulled her aside, into the empty dining room. "You and Logan are adults, and your business is your own, but could you please shield your room when you and Logan…get physical?"

Sara stared at her. "I haven't got the slightest idea what on earth you're talking about," she said.

Storm slipped in. "Sara, if you do not wish to be changing your bed sheets in the middle of the night, you had best shield your room."

Jean explained. Sara's eyes grew wide when she finished. "Oh my," she moaned in embarrassment. "I didn't know. I'm sorry, please excuse me!" She looked beseechingly at Storm. "You wouldn't make it rain on us, would you?"

Jean laughed out loud. "Yes she would! Sara, you've no idea how many times she did it to Scott and I!"

They were both laughing at Sara's uncomfortable look when Xavier's mental call came ringing through their heads, and it had an odd, unpleasant feel to it. **Sara, there are some men here that want to talk to you. They're detectives, investigating Richard's death.**

Sara went pale. **Say nothing. Act as if you don't know what happened. Don't forget to turn on your image inducer.** Seconds later the door to the dining room opened, and two men in suits walked in, followed by Xavier, in a regular wheelchair. "This is Sara Michaels, Detectives. Sara, these two are investigating Richard's death."

Sara's face was composed, but the two women could feel her muscles tighten in apprehension. Jean brushed her arm as she got up, and Sara immediately felt a calming wave flood her mind. She shot a grateful look at Jean as the redhead went through the kitchen door, and her nascent telepathic sense picked up the presence behind the door of Logan, Scott, Ororo, Jean, Betsy, and Warren listening.

"Ma'am, we're very sorry to have to do this," one man started. "We're investigating the death of the late Senator Ryan. I assume you've heard of his demise?"

"Yes," Sara said coolly. "I don't regret he died, Detective. I wish I had killed him, after all he'd done to me, but I didn't. And as far as I'm concerned, whoever did do it has my thanks."

"You didn't do it?"

"Of course not, Detective."

"That's what I thought," said the second man. "However…is this yours, Ma'am?" he said, handing her a picture of a long sword. 

Sara blinked. "Yes it is," she said. "A gift to me from some friends long ago."

"Have you ever had it sharpened?" he asked her. Griffin, said his name badge.

"No," she said. "Why? Give it an edge for Richard to hurt me even worse with?" Her voice was ice.

"What's your blood type?" the first detective, Capalletti, asked.

"A-negative," Sara replied. 

"Ma'am, we found your husband's body decapitated by a sharp instrument," Griffin said. "A very sharp instrument. Something like a sword. We took yours to the forensics office, and it had both yours and your husband's fingerprints on it, and some bloodstains on the grip. The blood--"

"Yes, the blood's mine," she said, looking down and clenching her fists in her lap to stop them from shaking. "He did…things…to me with it. I don't want to go into details, detectives. The papers have written enough stories about what he did to me to fill a book. I don't know where they get their information, but they happen to be mostly true."

"It wasn't the sword that killed him, Ma'am," said Griffin, gently. "His windpipe was crushed by a tremendous amount of pressure. The hacking up was done post-mortem. Do you have any idea who would be strong enough to do that?"

"No, I don't," Sara said, her heart thumping in her chest so loud she wondered that they didn't hear it. She hadn't killed Richard. Someone else did. And she knew, somehow, with a bone-deep conviction, that it had been Gero who had killed Ryan. She felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off her chest, a weight of guilt and sorrow. She hadn't killed her husband.

"We'll be in touch, Ma'am," said Detective Capalletti. He handed her his card. "If you think of anyone who might have done this, please give me a call." She nodded numbly, and they left.

"You didn't do it!" Jean exclaimed as the listeners piled into the dining room, and Sara switched off her image inducer. Xavier joined them soon afterward, having showed the detectives out of the mansion and retrieved his usual hoverchair. "You didn't kill him! Sara, do you have any idea who did?"

"Gero," Sara said, thinking aloud as Logan wrapped a comforting arm around her. "It has to have been Gero. I remember hearing Richard scream in the warehouse as Koven was skinning me. I was in too much pain to remember it, though."

"Well, you didn't do it. That's settled, then. Come on, Sara, let's eat breakfast, and then we have to go shopping!"

"Shopping?" she looked surprised.

"We haveta get the nursery ready, sugah," Rogue drawled. "Curtains, toys, and cribs, and all th' other stuff ya need fer the babies."

"Oh, gosh! I didn't think about all that!" she exclaimed.

They all went, even the guys. Sara chose two cribs, one in a blond wood finish, one in white, and Josh's crib bedding was pale blue with fluffy white clouds and yellow airplanes on it. Megan's crib bedding was in pink, with lavender and yellow butterflies. The women cooed over the bedding sets so much that the guys turned and left the baby store. When they finally got out, they were met by the sight of the guys sitting smugly in their cars, with Logan's pickup stuffed full. Sara gasped as she looked in the back; paint, wall borders, a nightlight, and, Logan's surprise for her, a lovely big rocking chair.

Upon their return, they immediately set to work. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, the hardwood floor was covered with a plush, thick carpet of pale beige, and borders of teddy bears were put up along the walls. The rocking chair was placed in the corner, the changing table was put along the opposite wall of the room, and the guys were in the process of assembling the cribs when the doorbell downstairs dinged. Scott went to answer it. Seconds later, there were thudding feet on the steps, and six uniformed policemen burst into the room. Detective Capalletti led them.

"Sara Michaels, you are under arrest for the murder of your ex-husband, Richard Ryan," he said without preamble, taking out his handcuffs and clasping them around her wrists. "You have the right to remain silent--"

"But I didn't do it!" Sara cried, her heart sinking as the men moved off into hers and Logan's bedroom. "I didn't do it, why are you doing this, oh, God…" She started to sob as the officers rifled through her drawers, tossing clothing and her personal items all over the room, and ransacking the drawers belonging to Logan, too.

"Officers," Xavier came in, in his wheelchair and looking thoroughly angry, 'unless you have a warrant--"

Capalletti handed him the warrant. "We just got it this afternoon," he said icily. "This," he handed over another paper, "is a warrant for her arrest. We've received information that she is an accomplished swordswoman, and could very well be hiding a sword here. Please step aside, sir," he said. He walked out of the room, half-dragging the sobbing Sara, as Logan looked after her in anguish, standing amidst the shambles of their room.


	5. Conspiracy

Chapter 5: Conspiracy

Sara sat quietly in a corner of the jail cell, ignoring the other people around her as she waited for Charles to come and get her. 

She didn't understand. She was innocent. How could they do this to her? Richard's blood hadn't been on the sword they found at his house, and her own, she knew, was safely back at the mansion, in Betsy's sword box. They had been polishing their swords a couple days ago and hadn't had a chance to finish the task, so she'd put hers with Betsy's and run off. It was a sure bet they hadn't found it, and anyway, Chang had his own ideas about strangers touching him and his own ways of hiding.

Maybe they'd found the sword she had been given by Koven! The thought startled her. It was possible. She didn't know what had happened to that sword. Perhaps it had been left there, and they'd found her fingerprints on it…wait. She'd worn gloves, because the grip hadn't been well made and it abraded her hands. The gloves, and the rest of the outfit she had worn as Deathstar, had been promptly discarded back at the mansion.

"Michaels," said a gruff voice, and she looked up, to see Capalletti opening the door for her. She rose from her position on the hard bench and walked out, following him down the hall. She didn't expect to see an interrogation room.

"In," he said curtly, and she stepped in with a rising sense of dread, her mind hurriedly trying to come up with alibis. She couldn't tell him the truth; Charles had already warned her not to speak of the Shi'ar in front of others. Her stomach knotted in fear as she sat in the chair he'd indicated.

"We found a sword in a warehouse down on Canal Street," he said bluntly. "And we found your husband's blood splattered all over it. We also found his coat. In the pocket of that coat was a piece of paper with your name and the amount of fifty thousand dollars written on it. What was he doing in that warehouse, Ms. Michaels?"

"I don't know," Sara said, her stomach constricting.

He shoved a photograph in front of her' Richard's coat, bloodstained, lying on the top step of that remembered warehouse. The sight of the blood made her stomach lurch, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling as if she was about to throw up. "I'm going to…please…" she whispered. He sat there as her shoulders heaved, and then she couldn't help it anymore. She threw up. He cursed in anger as it splattered the table, her clothes, and her hands, some of it getting on him in the process. She didn't notice, her shoulders heaving as she retched, and retched, and retched. When she finally stopped heaving, she was covered in her own vomit and huddled on the floor beside the table.

Capalletti grabbed her arm and hauled her upright back into her chair. She stumbled dizzily back into it, grimacing at the awful taste in her mouth. "What the hell's wrong with you!?" he snapped at her. 

"I'm pregnant," she gasped. "My medicine's wearing off. I need more. Please," she gasped, then doubled over with dry heaves.

He looked at her. "That's it, then," he said, "You're pregnant with his baby, and he wanted to talk to you about it! You probably wanted an abortion or something, and he was trying to pay you off to keep it and give it to him!" 

"No," she mumbled, but he wasn't listening. 

"You lured him to that warehouse, so you and your boyfriend could kill him! I've seen the pictures of you and that guy in the tabloids, he looks strong enough to crush someone's throat in his fist! Is that what you did, Ms. Michaels?"

She tried to focus on what he was saying, but the room was spinning, and then everything went black.

"Here," came a voice from the darkness, "drink this." Sara sipped at the water cup held in front of her, desperately hoping it would stay down. It didn't. She threw up again, adding to the noxious mixture already on her clothes. She desperately wanted her medicine so she would stop feeling so sick inside, but it didn't look like she was going home anytime soon. She opened her eyes and blinked, trying to stop the room from spinning.

A woman was in front of her, someone obviously in lockup just like her, and Sara vaguely remembered she had been put in the cell for loitering and prostitution. "Girl, you look a mess," she said to Sara, putting the cup of water down and helping her sit up. "They don't like you, do they? They just tossed you in here like this."

"They think I murdered my ex-husband," Sara mumbled as she sat down again on the bench. "I didn't."

"Yeah, same as all the rest in here," she said, snapping her gum so loudly Sara's head hurt. "Lie down and get some rest, okay?" Sara drifted off into unconsciousness.

The woman, Gloria, kicked the bars of the cell and shouted, "Hey! Any of you cops out there here me? Got a sick woman in here!"

One man came over, took a look, and said, "It's Capalletti's case. He said to leave her." He wandered off, and no amount of shouting would bring anyone back. She walked out of the cell when her time was up, casting one glance at the unconscious woman in the corner.

Roughly an hour later two well-dressed men, one walking, one sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by a tall handsome brown-haired man came into the cellblock. A shorter, dark-haired man and a tall gorgeous red-haired woman accompanied them. The duty officer who led them in opened the door, and Logan sprang into the tiny cell, his attention focused on the limp woman. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of vomit.

Xavier turned to the officer on duty. "This is monstrous," he snapped. "She's pregnant, and she gets sick. Didn't anyone offer her something to throw up in, or something for her to clean herself up with?"

The officer looked uncomfortable. "Uh, she's Capalletti's suspect, sir, and he hates it when people mess with his suspects. We all try to steer clear of his temper."

Logan snapped, "Tell me where he is, an' I'll show him temper!" But Xavier silenced him with a look, and he went back to Sara's side, holding her.

Capalletti showed up just then, and he and Xavier's lawyer walked away, talking at a great rate. The X-Men stayed with Sara until the lawyer came back. "There's a bail hearing tomorrow," he said. "There's nothing we can do for her until then."

Xavier said, "At least we can bring some fresh clothes and the medicine she needs to keep herself from getting sick," he pleaded with Capalletti.

Capalletti sneered. "Clothes yes, but no medicine. How do I know she's not going to poison herself before we can get her to trial?"

"She needs it," Jean said, desperately, but the man was adamant. 

Logan left and came back shortly with another change of clothing. Capalletti allowed her to step into the bathroom to change, and she took the opportunity to wash her hands and face. She felt much better when she came out, and tried to put on a brave face when they were forced to leave.

She didn't even try to eat the breakfast she was offered the next morning, knowing she was just going to throw it all up again. So when she finally did come up in front of the judge at her bail hearing she was looking pale, and her stomach was tight from hunger, and her head whirled. She acknowledged Xavier and Logan's presence with a brief nod,, and tried to focus on what was being said.

"Not guilty," She whispered when the judge asked her for her plea.

"Your honor, the defendant is charged with first degree murder," said the prosecutor. "We ask that she be remanded to custody without bail."

"There has been no proof," Sara's lawyer returned. "The police found a sword at the second crime scene with the victim's blood on it. My client's fingerprints weren't on it, and they have nothing against her except the fact that she is a practitioner of the martial arts and she has no alibi for the night in question."

Judge Rigatti tapped his gavel. "Bail is set at one million dollars," he said. 

Sara gasped aloud in shock, and she stood, unmindful of the hand her lawyer placed on her arm. "No!" she exclaimed, in tears, "No, judge, please, I want to go home! I didn't do it, please, I didn't do it, I swear I didn't!" She crumpled into her chair, crying in anguish. The judge watched, stony-faced, then signaled to the bailiff to remove the sobbing woman. Xavier and Logan let themselves out, dazed at the verdict.

Logan sat in the dim, smoky bar, ignoring the other patrons, intent on drinking himself into a stupor; not an easy task, with his healing factor. The morning's events had stunned them all. He had been told they would be transferring her to Riker's Island that day, and they could visit her there the next morning. It hurt, to think of his beloved in that jail where she didn't belong, with a lot of other people who did belong in there. He couldn't even imagine how she was feeling.

Probably much the same way he was feeling. He was confused. There wasn't enough evidence to indict her, much less have such a high bail set for her. Her lawyer was even taken aback. Things were happening way too fast, on too little evidence. Even the newspapers had commented on the apparent speed and incompleteness of the whole proceeding.

Someone slid into the booth across from him, and Logan looked up, about to snarl in anger at the intruder, but the sound died on his lips. His visitor was tall, muscular, dark-haired, dressed in nondescript black clothing…and very familiar.

"Whatcha doin' here, Frank?" Logan returned his attention to his glass, his words slurring a little. "If it's Sara yer after, I'll tell ya right now; she didn' do it, an' anyone who says otherwise is gonna haveta face me."

Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, took Logan's glass away for a second. "Logan, listen to me. I know your girl didn't do it. She's being railroaded. Did she ever tell you her ex-husband was a member of the Mafia?"

The drunken fog in Logan's head cleared as if Storm had waved it away. "Yeah, I think she mentioned it once or twice." 

"Richard Ryan's name used to be Rianetti; the judge's name is Rigatti, the prosecutor's name is Feratoni, her arresting officer's name is Capalletti. Does that make any sense?"

"They're all Italian," Logan said with dawning comprehension.

"Yeah," Castle said grimly. "Feratoni served in the army. He was passed over for a promotion in favor of a guy named Michaels, because Michaels got his rich heiress daughter to marry the son of the guy giving out the promotions, Rianetti. Capalletti's sister married the guy who owns Draconi Inc., a minor scientific lab out in California. Draconi just had a contract cancelled that they had signed with a struggling corporation called Meredith Enterprises. They weren't planning to honor the contract anyway, which is why I suspect that your girl cancelled it. But it's the fact that she cancelled it that became the sore point for them. Judge Rigatti is the major shareholder in Draconi Inc."

"So why are all these people after Sara?" Logan's head was spinning with all this new information.

"Feratoni because of wounded pride. He's determined to make her pay for her ex-husband's father's actions. Capalletti and Rigatti because they're determined to make her pay for the dent in the cash flow going into their pockets. They're manufacturing evidence to try to get her out of the picture. With her out of the way, they're hoping the company will collapse, and then they'll be free to try to acquire what's left from an acquisitions corporation."

"How did you know all this?" Logan shook his head in wonder. 

"I've been after the whole clan of them for years, and trying to expose the Senator for what he was; a rising power in the American-Italian Mafia." He was silent for a moment. "Logan, answer me a question, please, as honestly as you can. I promise I'm not going to hold a grudge against your girl if she did do it, but…did she kill her ex-husband?"

"Can ya keep a secret?" Logan looked at Castle, and the man nodded. Logan told him the whole story, from the Shi'ar scientist named Koven to Sara's recent resurrection. Castle listened silently. "That's why she looked so terrible, then," Castle said sympathetically as Logan lapsed into silence. "I went to the bail hearing."

"She's not lookin' terrible 'cause of her recent 'death', she's lookin' the way she is 'cause she's pregnant, an' the kids are makin' her real sick, and they won't let her take her medicine while she's in prison," Logan said indignantly.

"Pregnant?..." Castle looked incredulously at Logan. "Kids? Twins? Yours?" And when Logan couldn't keep his face from breaking into a grin, Castle slapped him on the back. "You old dog, I told you someday some girl'd make you an honest man!"

"I haven't asked her to marry me yet," Logan grumped at his friend. Castle leaned over him.

"Why the hell not? You love her, don't you?"

"Yes," Logan said, and there was a world of feeling in his voice for Sara. "But she's still on the rebound from her divorce, an' now her ex-husband's death, an' the time just hasn't been right."

"She's a hell of a girl, to put up with what she did from her late husband and still be willing to trust men again," he said. "Logan, if I were you I'd ask before you lose her. This super hero business isn't the safest, and you never know what could happen."

Logan nodded as the other man got up. "Tell Charles I said hi, and don't wait too long to tell the lawyers. There are plenty of people from the crime families who are in Riker's, and they'd do just about anything to get a 'get out of jail free' card from the judge. Even if it means seriously hurting an innocent girl."

Charles listened to Logan's narrative as he recounted what Castle had told him. "Things did seem to be progressing too fast," he said. "I'll speak to the lawyer in the morning. It will take some time to gather the evidence, but at least we know what to look for. I'll have to thank Frank when I see him again."

They went to see Sara the next day, and Logan was struck by her appearance. Even Xavier was shocked. She was pale, and her arms and legs were so thin that her stomach, swelling out now that she was beginning her fifth month, looked grotesquely huge and her eyes were red from crying. Because she was in the maximum security wing, they couldn't touch her, and her eyes filled with miserable tears again as she pressed her palm against the glass that separated her from her beloved. "Hang on, Sara," he said. "We'll get ya out o' there. I can't say anythin' yet, but ya should be out o' there in about a week."

"I miss you," she wept into the phone, and stood watching Xavier and Logan leave before following the guard out of the room.

And thanks to Frank's information, the fleet of lawyers Xavier hired to dig out the information needed to expose the conspiracy against her had done their work in a week and a half, and Sara was cleared, the charges dismissed, and she was allowed to go home free. She nearly fainted in relief when she was told she could go home, and the television cameras got a nice, clear shot of her stumbling down the courthouse steps, assisted by Logan, to get into the car waiting for her to take her home.


	6. The Reavers

Chapter 6: Reavers

The television hit the wall with such force that a hole was bashed in the plaster. The woman who had hurled it stood over the shattered circuitry, snarling. "Wolverine's found himself a girl!" Lady Deathstrike snarled in hatred. "Betcha that's his kid she's having too!"

Pierce, the leader of the Reavers, looked over from where he was reading a newspaper. "It is," he said calmly, watching the woman slice the TV into shreds with her adamantium-laced fingers. "Come on, now, you're not doing anything productive by losing your temper like this. We have to plan."

"Plan?" her ears pricked up at the words as the rest of the Reavers came into the room to see what the fuss was about.

"Yes. Don't you think it would hurt Wolverine to have her taken from him? We're going to kidnap her, then when he and the X-Men come for her we could eliminate them all."

Lady Deathstrike grinned, and left off mangling the TV to sit down at the table with everyone else as they began to plan.

Cyber was similarly enraged. The mutant went around his base smashing things in a rage, a rage that amused his visitor. "So do you want in or not?" said Deathstrike impatiently.

"Of course!" he snapped. "Anything to get the little @#*%!" He flexed his claws wickedly. "And I'd love to see what these hallucinogenic compounds will do to his little woman."

Sabretooth stared at Lady Deathstrike as she spoke. "Ya wanna what?" he snarled, savage delight blossoming in his mind. "Yer gonna kidnap the runt's woman? He's gonna slice an' dice ya up fer that!" He licked his lips. "I seen his chick. Little bitty thing she is, ain't hardly worth the time he's wastin' on her when he coulda had somebody like you." His eyes roamed laciviously up and down her body, and Deathstrike extended her claws. 

"Don't even think about it. I'm in it for the revenge, pure and simple. So are you in or out?"

Sabretooth grinned slowly, a slow, cruel smile. "Wonder what she sounds like when she screams," he said.

Sara sat up in bed suddenly, startled out of her sleep by a sense of impending doom. She made a face. As if she didn't already have problems sleeping, now she was going to have to deal with insomnia? She winced as her swollen feet hit the floor, and took a few moments to ease her weight onto them before she stood up.

In the three weeks since her release from prison she had more than gained back what she'd lost during her stay. Though the nausea continued, she could keep it at bay with the pills the obstetrician had prescribed. Her feet and ankles were swollen a great deal of the time now, and the doctor had said that it would only get worse as she entered her sixth month. Logan had taken to rubbing them in the evening after they'd gone to bed, and it did help.

Logan. She turned and looked at him, sleeping peacefully in the other side of the bed. By now he was used to her waking up in the middle of the night, and didn't do more than open one eye when she got up. He was so considerate, letting her sleep late in the mornings, sometimes bringing her breakfast in bed, and comforting her when she got emotional, which she did with such frequency she was disgusted with herself. Jean had laughed, and told her it was normal, and that she was going to go back to normal as soon as the babies were born.

She looked down at her nightgown, and grimaced. Two spots of blood had soaked through her nightgown where the metarium and her skin joined. She would have to tell the obstetrician about it in the morning. The metarium was flexible, and it did stretch, but she was ballooning out so fast it didn't stretch fast enough. The edges of her skin were beginning to pull away from the metal again. Jean had given her a lotion to work into the skin on her stomach, to keep her from getting stretch marks. It hadn't done anything for the stretch marks, but it had helped her skin stay supple enough that she didn't have quite as much a problem with the tearing edges. Fortunately for her, Koven had not laced her abdomen with as much of the metarium as he had her arms and legs; thinking, perhaps, that her limbs would be more of a target to an attacker.

Jean and Storm's doctor knew about the metarium. She had asked Sara if she was a mutant on Sara's third visit, and Sara had admitted she was, and turned off the image inducer. The woman hadn't even batted an eyelash, going instead to her stomach and examining the edges of the skin. It had added a new dimension to the pregnancy, and one that they hadn't anticipated, but it seemed to be going well so far.

She wandered out to the nursery, sat down in the rocking chair, and reached for the book on the lamp table. She tried to read, but the feeling of impending doom hanging over her head persisted, and she couldn't shake it off to concentrate on her book. She finally gave up her attempt at reading and just sat quietly enjoying the peace of the night until her eyelids grew heavy and she nodded off to sleep there in the rocking chair.

Logan awoke to bright sunlight streaming in the room across the bed. For a moment he was alarmed at finding the other side empty, then as he dropped his shields he felt her in the nursery asleep. Having a telepathic contact with Sara was a wonderful thing, he mused as he smiled and got out of bed. He pulled on his clothes, then went out to the nursery and tapped her shoulder gently. "What…?" she whispered groggily.

"Go ta bed, darlin'," he whispered softly in her ear. He slid an arm under her own and got her back into the bed, pulled the covers up around her, and dropped a kiss on her cheek as he went downstairs. In the kitchen he poured himself a cup of black coffee as he sat down. Someone had left a catalog from the local department store on the table and he picked it up, idly flipping through it. A large red circle in the middle of the jewelry section caught his eye, and he opened to the page.

The circle was drawn around a small marquise-cut diamond in a setting of swirling gold filigree. His mind, unbidden, saw that ring circling Sara's slender finger, and he suddenly remembered Frank's words; _you never know what could happen…_

"Indeed," came Jean's voice from the doorway, and he turned, not realizing he'd spoken aloud. "I thought you might want to see that," she nodded to the catalog. It suddenly dawned on him that the thing must have been left there on purpose, and Jean nodded with a twinkle in her eyes as she sat down with her own cup of coffee. "Sara was looking at that a few days ago," she said. "And she asked me if I thought you really loved her."

"O' course I do, how could she doubt it?" Logan said, shaken, as Betsy and Storm came in and sat down, both with tea.

"Logan, she's having your children," Betsy said. "You haven't asked her if they'll have her last name, or yours, and she's been terribly reluctant to bring up the subject because she's afraid you two will fight over it."

"She has been waiting for you to ask," Storm said. "With her hormones the way they presently are, she's quite hesitant to ask if you would marry her. But it is definitely on her mind, and she has been getting more and more anxious as time has passed and you didn't say anything."

"I haven't asked 'cause I thought she needed time ta get over what's happened," he said. "I didn't know she was waitin' fer me."

"She thinks you don't think she's still attractive, " Jean smiled. "She's been moaning about being fat and ugly the last week."

"She's not!" Logan blinked. "Mos' nights I can barely keep my hands offa her!" he was appalled at his own denseness. "How could I 'ave missed it?"

"You're male," Jean giggled. At his offended look the three women burst out into laughter. "It's a guy thing," Jean cracked, giggling. "Don't get offended, Logan, all guys are like that to us girls. So how about coming with us when we go out today? You can get that ring today and pop The Question tonight." She mimed quotation marks around the words, and Logan could almost hear the capital letters.

"I guess I should," he said, studying the picture again.

He felt terribly out of place in the jewelry store, much like a bull would feel in a china shop, but at least this time it wasn't as bad as it was the first time he'd come in here to purchase something; namely, Sara's necklace. Jean, perhaps sensing his uneasiness, took charge, engaging the saleswoman in some small talk as the case was opened and the ring Logan wanted to get was brought out for inspection. He felt a little disappointed when he saw it; there wasn't that sense of rightness about it that he'd felt with Sara's soulstone necklace. The ring looked nicer in the picture in the catalog than it did under the bright, glaring jeweler's light. He thought about it for a long moment, then shook his head. He felt, instinctively, that Sara wouldn't like it.

He looked through the rest of the diamond rings in the case, trying to find one that he could see Sara wearing. Some were too big, some too small. Too flashy, too quiet. Discouraged, he was about to call the whole thing off when he saw one, in the back of the case; a simple, narrow band of gold with an oval diamond in its center. A fine thread of gold wire wrapped across the face of the stone, and two tiny diamond chips formed the center of golden flowers on either side of the center stone. When the saleswoman brought it out, and he examined it, he saw, in his mind, the narrow band of gold encircling Sara's finger. It felt right. Jean was pleased with it, too, and he bought it, with the reassurance that he could later bring it back to have it sized if it didn't fit.

He kept opening the bag and peeking at the ring all the way back to the mansion. Jean and Ororo exchanged amused glances, but didn't say anything until they were almost home. Then, "Logan."

"Yeah, 'Ro?" he looked at her.

"If you don't want her to know about it until tonight then I suggest you hide it. She's almost at the door." And he looked up, and felt Sara's presence moving to the front door of the mansion. He shoved the little black velvet box into his pocket and grabbed a couple of shopping bags for Ororo as he got out of the car, trying to look innocent.

Sara felt his excitement as she stepped out of the mansion and made her way out to the car. She was about to ask when she felt Jean brush her mind lightly. **Don't ask, Sara.**

Even more curious now, she almost said something when she felt the rush of anticipatory pleasure run like a heady wine through his head. So she quelled her curiosity and instead kissed him, pretending as though she hadn't noticed anything unusual. He dropped the bags in Ororo's room, then went straight to their own and deposited the little black box in the top drawer of his dresser.

When dinnertime came around he slipped the ring out of its box into his jeans pocket, going downstairs. It was becoming an effort for her to get up once she'd sat down, so he had gotten into the habit of bringing her a plate. He took his time about it, waiting until everyone was seated (which seemed to take less time than usual, probably because he could 'hear' Jean urging everyone to sit) before he brought out her plate, covered with a napkin. "Logan, what--" she started to say.

"Sara," he said, wondering if he should kneel but feeling awkward about doing that, and opting instead to simply stand, "I love you an' I want ta marry ya. Will ya marry me?" and he pulled the napkin off the plate and revealed his surprise; the ring, encircling the stem of a single red rose. 

Sara stared at it, her mouth open. She had waited for this, hoped for this, but really hadn't expected it. It took her totally by surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, looking up at him, then her eyes closed and she fell over off the chair.

Logan stood stupefied. Of all the reactions he'd thought she would have when she saw the ring, this wasn't one he had planned for. She wasn't out long; her eyes flew open as she hit the floor, and she sat up, gasping. "What? Logan? You want me to…"

"I want ya ta marry me, Sare, I love ya." He knelt beside her, helping her to stand, and she threw her arms around his neck in a huge hug. 

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly. "Yes, I'll marry you. Oh, Logan, I thought you'd never ask!" She slipped the ring on her finger, giving him a long lingering kiss. They kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Gambit spoke up, laughter in his voice. "If ya don' min', p'tite, Gambit a little hungry," he said. Sara reached down to the table, found her spoon and threw it at him even as she broke the kiss. The X-Men broke up into laughter, and settled down to an impressive engagement dinner for the two.


	7. Kidnapping

Chapter 7: Kidnapping

"The Reavers are attacking," Xavier said grimly, leaning forward over the table. "They were downtown a few minutes ago, terrorizing a bus full of people. Now they're attacking Sara's hospital. Go and stop them, before they do any more damage."

Sara watched the Blackbird take off with a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know why, but even the euphoria of her engagement to Logan hadn't dispelled the sense of impending doom she'd felt hanging over her head. She didn't know why, unless it was because she'd started having contractions. The doctor had been worried that she was going into early labor once, and she'd gone to the hospital, but nothing came of it, except to make her even more anxious. Her due date was now only six weeks away, and she was so ready to go, now, as she found herself repeating to Logan nearly a dozen times a day. She was so tired of this; she couldn't tie her shoes, and she felt constantly like she was going to pop. Stairs had become a real effort for her, and she had begun to take Charles's elevator up and down. She had gained almost sixty pounds, and although the doctor had assured her over and over that the extra weight would go away, she wasn't sure how soon it would go away, and she wasn't sure how she would look after it did. Already her once-trim one hundred ten pound body had stretch marks all over.

Charles watched Sara as she stood in front of his study window, aware that something was wrong, even though she tried to pretend there wasn't. "Sara," he said gently, "It's always hard to watch someone you love go out there, no matter how many times you see it. I feel the same way each time any one of you goes, but there's nothing I can do except hope that I've taught you all enough for you to defend yourselves adequately, and come back safely."

Sara sighed in frustration, sitting down on a chair in his study. "It's not that, Charles. I don't know why; I can't explain it, but for some reason the last month or so I've been feeling like something bad's going to happen, and I don't know why I feel like that, or what it might be. It sort of feels like an itch you can't scratch that drives you nuts." She got up and started to pace, and Xavier thought she must be indeed upset, if she could find the energy to pace like that in the condition she was in. "It disturbs me that the Reavers are involved in this; Logan still gets nightmares from what they did to him in Australia. Oh, God, Charles, I think I'd die if anything happened to him!"

Charles was thinking that over, and wondering what to say in response when all the mansion's alert sirens went off at once. Sara and Charles got downstairs with all possible speed, Sara stopping in her room just long enough to grab Chang; but they never made it to the War Room, the heart of the mansion's security network. The mansion's electricity cut out and they were left standing in the front foyer when the massive wooden front doors blasted open. Lady Deathstrike, Cyber, and Sabretooth stood framed in the hole.

"Well, well, well," Deathstrike's face bloomed in a cruel smile. "Logan's little pet and the great Charles Xavier, sitting here and waiting for us to come and get you." 

Xavier had never felt so helpless in his life. Sara was pregnant, how could he protect her? At that moment he wanted more than anything to be able to stand and defend her. There was no doubt in his mind that they were here for Sara. Why he didn't know, but he could guess. The three people standing in front of him all held grudges against Logan, and he had a sinking feeling that they were going to kill her.

Deathstrike turned to her two escorts. "Kill him, but take her. We need her alive."

Sara drew Chang, and placed herself between Xavier and their enemies. "You're not going to touch him," she said angrily. 

Deathstrike laughed; not a pleasant sound. "You, child? As loaded down as you are, you're going to take us on?" Sara's hand went to the necklace around her neck, swiftly, unobtrusively, and closed around the pendant, activating the forcefield as she spoke to him telepathically. **Charles. ** **It's me they want, not you. Get to the end of the hall and flip the breaker. Once the electric is on, they can't touch either of us. I'll hold them off.** Without giving him a chance to argue, she stepped into the battle. Charles paused there for a moment, torn between getting to her side and helping her, or going for the circuit box that would restore power to the mansion. It proved their undoing.

The slight hesitation allowed Sabretooth to reach him. The feral man lunged for him, and Xavier's hoverchair tipped over from the sudden weight and he went sprawling. Without assistance, he couldn't get back into the hoverchair fast enough. He knew he'd made a mistake; he should have done as Sara had suggested and headed for the breaker box he could see at the end of the hall. Too far, and out of reach. Sabretooth swung at him, striking him, and Charles fell to the floor, dizzy from the blow over his eye. The huge mutant towered over him, raising a gargantuan fist to strike Xavier again, and kill him.

Sara saw it too. With a shriek of pure fury she stumbled the few steps to Xavier's side, hauled him bodily into his chair, and thrust Chang into his grasp. The violet forcefield sprang to life around him, protecting him. She gasped out "Stay!" to Chang, and Charles sensed the sword's reluctant obedience as it fastened itself to his hand. 

She stood in front of them, triumphant. "You won't touch him," she hissed at Deathstrike and Sabretooth. "You won't get through that forcefield."

Sabretooth howled in rage and flung himself at the forcefield protecting Xavier. Again, and again, and again. It didn't budge, didn't move. Charles sat in his chair, invincible, wrapped in that violet energy swirl.

Deathstrike hissed at him, "Stop that, you fool! The girl activated it, she can take it out! Work on her!" Sabretooth turned away from Xavier and struck Sara. She cried out, fell to the floor, her hand flying to the cruel bruise blooming on her cheek. 

He snarled, growled, hissed, and howled at her as he kicked her, screaming at her, "Take down the damn forcefield!" Charles felt sick as he watched Sara resolutely clench her teeth against the words he was trying to beat out of her, and wrap her arms around her middle to protect the unborn children in her stomach.

"Enough!" Deathstrike screamed in impotent fury. "The X-Men will be here soon. Grab the girl and let's go! We can't face them here!" To Charles she said, "We'll let you know where we are…after we get there. We're going to set a trap for your beloved X-Men, with her as bait, and nothing's going to save them this time!" She gave an evil cackle as she, Sabretooth, and Cyber left, a barely conscious Sara slung between the two men.

Xavier went out, onto the lawn, just in time to see a helicopter with the three villains and Sara in it lift off in a flurry of noise, and fly away toward the west. He shaded his eyes from the brilliance of the setting sun, watching until the tiny black dot disappeared over the horizon. When it was gone, and he could see it no more, he bowed his head, feeling tears dampen his cheeks. And that was where the X-Men found him when they returned.

Jean was the first to reach him, running over the lawn to fall to her knees at his side. 'Charles!" she cried, her hands coming up under his chin to lift it so she could see the dark bruise swelling his eye closed, "what happened!?"

"Sara," Charles sobbed raggedly, unable to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks, "they took her, they beat her up and they took her, they were going to kill me but she stopped them, she saved my life, and I couldn't stop them, I couldn't save her, oh, dear God, Logan…" he looked up at Wolverine, standing stunned in front of him, and breathed, "Logan, I'm sorry..."

Scott came to his side, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Charles, you did what you could. It's not your fault."

"But it is!" Xavier cried in anguish. "She tried to save both of us, she told me to head for the breaker, to turn the electricity back on, if I had it would have activated the mansion's security systems and saved both of us. But I didn't listen to her, I thought I knew better, and the gift she gave me, the forcefield that saved my life was wasted. Oh, Sara, Sara, Sara…" And he turned and headed into the mansion, head and shoulders bowed in sorrow for what he had failed to do. She had given him the forcefield to protect him, leaving herself and her children unprotected, and he had thrown it away for his stupid pride, thinking he knew better. The X-Men, not knowing what to say, followed him into the mansion silently.

Sara awoke lying on something hard. Her back and hips ached, and her body was a massive ball of pain. She heard herself cry out with it, clamped her lip between her teeth to stop it, and opened bruised eyes, to see a number of black horizontal lines in front of her vision.

"She's awake," came a harsh, growling voice, and she nearly screamed as a metallic arm armed with an electric charge prodded her in her kidneys. She dragged her protesting body upright, and the lines in her vision resolved into the vertical bars of a cage. The arm retracted, and she stared at its owner in terror.

"Pierce," he said, sweeping her a mock bow. She knew his face from Xavier's files. This was Donald Pierce, the leader of the Reavers, and the one who had ordered Logan crucified on the wooden X back in Australia. Beside him was Lady Deathstrike, Cyber, Sabretooth, and the rest of the Reavers.

"Let me go," she said, but even to her own ears it sounded weak and pathetic. "Logan will kill you for this!"

"He'll never get the chance," Deathstrike said. "He and the others will walk right into the trap we're setting for them, and they will die. Most of them will die right away; I have no use for them. But Logan, your husband…him I will keep around to watch you give birth, and then I will kill you, and then I will kill his helpless newborn infant children in front of him.

"What kind of heartless monster are you?" Sara whispered. ""Our children haven't done anything to you. Why do you want to hurt them?"

Deathstrike hissed, "I am the heartless monster Logan has made me to be! I want to hurt them because if I do so I can hurt him! And he will come running, girl, he will come running when I show him you." She signaled, and Cyber and Sabretooth unlocked the cage she sat in, dragging her out and throwing her down on a cold metal table. Sara closed her eyes as her clothes were torn from her and she was strapped down. _Not again, please not again,_ she begged God silently, but the binding went on. When she was helpless Cyber raised a hand over her throat, extruding only the claws that bore hallucinogenic compounds. He sank his talons deep into the veins of her neck, injecting the drugs into her neck vein. 

Sara sank into a nightmare world within her own mind, where Richard stood over her and hurt her again. Sabretooth watched her strain against her bonds, the straps digging painfully into her swollen belly, and snorted. "I don't see anythin' happenin'," he said. He stepped up to the table, laying a hand on her thigh. Sara gasped out, "Logan, please…help me, oh God, help, please…" It gave him an idea. "Hey, Pretty Boy," he snarled. "Can ya use yer brainwashing power to make her think I'm Logan?"

"Yeah," the Reaver came forward, the fiber-optic cables extruding form his eyes, "What's that gonna do?"

Sabretooth smiled evilly. "Even if the X-Men manage to free her and get away from us alive the little runt won't ever have his girl back. She ain't gonna want him ta touch 'er after I'm done with her."

Deathstrike grinned maliciously as Pretty Boy went about programming Sara's brain. "Now why didn't I think of that," She purred as the Reaver moved aside and Sabretooth began to touch the helpless girl.

The X-Men didn't waste time. When Deathstrike sent them a call with a set of coordinates they ran for the Blackbird. Logan sat silently near the window as they flew above the clouds, heading for Australia. He should have known they would take her there. The site of his greatest nightmares and fears, and now his beloved was trapped there. His claws popped in and out, a quiet _snikt, snakt_ the only sound in the plane.

He hadn't slept in the two days she'd been gone. He'd tried, knowing he had to be fresh, his wits sharp, for this battle, but no matter how he'd tried he simply couldn't. He kept getting out of their bed and looking around the nursery, at the things waiting for the children she was having, and hoped that when they found her she and the kids would still be alive. He knew they had taken her as revenge against him, and that they needed her alive, but there were a lot of things that could be done to her body that would leave her alive but cause incredible pain. He knew from experience that her captors could be quite creative with their tortures. 

All his worst fears were realized when he finally saw her, lying strapped to a table in the Reavers' underground base. Bruises, welts, and cuts marred the smoothness of the skin among the metal latticework on her body, and her swollen stomach heaved with her tortured breathing. Claw marks on her neck showed where Cyber had pumped her full of the hallucinogenic drugs that were part of his physiology. The rest of the wounds on her body were definitely Sabretooth's work.

"You're gonna die," he snarled at Sabretooth, extending his claws. He didn't even try to hold back the animal fury rising within him; rather, he welcomed it and tapped into it for the strength he needed to save his beloved.

Fueled as they were by anger, it didn't take long for the X-Men to make short work of the Reavers. Cyber and Sabretooth followed them as they ran off, nursing wounds that Wolverine had inflicted. Still seeing red, he would have run after them when Jean's shouted telepathic command stopped him. He returned, slicing Sara's bonds easily with his claws and easing her unconscious body off the table into his arms, and carrying her onto the Blackbird. 


	8. Megan and Josh

Chapter 8: Megan and Josh

The machines beeped in a regular pattern, assuring those watching that the young woman was indeed still alive. However, the machine that monitored her brainwaves was flat and unresponsive, though Hank could occasionally see a tiny spike of something happening in her mind, though these spikes were few and far between. The monitor watching over her children stayed steady and constant as the babies went about the business of getting bigger and bigger in her stomach.

Logan sat by her bed constantly, watching the monitors, holding her hand and staring into those wide-open blank eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He talked to her, hoping that it would bring her out of her coma; for coma it was, one so profound her body wasn't responding to normal stimuli.

A week went by, and there was no change. Xavier, at first content to allow her to come out of it herself, grew worried, and one evening as Logan sat beside Sara's bed and talked to her softly, he and Jean came down to see them. "Is there any change?" Charles asked Logan.

"No," he said sadly. "'S like she ain't even there, Charles, her body's here but her spirit, the part o' her that makes Sara herself, ain't there anymore. Normally I can feel her through our telepathic link, but right now I can't even sense her, though her shields are wide open."

"We're going to see what we can do about that, Logan." Charles grasped Sara's hand in his, closing his eyes, letting himself slip through the portal to Sara's mind and seeing what was in there. 

Nothing. He hung in a vast, dark, unbroken void, lifeless and silent. There was no sense of Sara anywhere. **Sara!** he 'yelled' telepathically, turning to see if he could find her. **Sara!**

Deep down in the furthermost recesses of that mind, a small spark stirred and listened to the voice. It thought it knew that voice, and a vague memory arose, of kindness, caring, and a fatherly sort of pride. It was about to stir itself, and go find the source of that voice, when it suddenly remembered something else. That voice had been, most recently, raised in a cruel laugh as the owner of the voice savaged its body. It whimpered and fled further into the dark recesses of its mind, fleeing the pain it believed would follow.

Xavier hung in the featureless void, calling repeatedly for the young woman he was trying to reach, trying to call the mind back into the body, staying there until he was in danger of falling deep into that mind and never finding his way back. He broke the link, sagged back into his hoverchair, and covered his eyes with his hand, shoulders bowed in sorrow.

"She's not there," he murmured to Logan, who was hovering and waiting for news. "I can't find her. I called and called and called, and I couldn't get to her. Either she's there and doesn't want to come out, or she's gone…" He swallowed the sobs that threatened to close his throat.

"She's gone?" Logan sank back into his chair, numb. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't. It couldn't end like this, not again. All the women he'd loved, all the ones he'd ever cared for; Mariko, Silver Fox…and now Sara. He'd loved them all, mourned each one. But Sara was different. Sara carried his children. She couldn't die. She couldn't. "Charles," he whispered, a thought growing in his head, "Maybe if I went in there an' called, maybe she'd come back. She loves me, an' through our bond I could maybe find her where ya can't."

Xavier gathered himself for the attempt. "Let's try." He pulled Logan into a meld with him, waited for the bond to cement, then slipped into the mind of the woman before them.

**Sara!** Xavier and Logan both called into the dark void. **Sara! Come back! You're safe! Come back! **Logan added his calls to Xavier's.

**Sara! Ya gotta come back, darlin', please! I love ya! The kids need ya! Come back! Please! I need ya, Sara, please come back!**

There was no answer from the tiny spark fleeing further into the blackness. It knew those voices, and it wanted to go back, but fresh in its thoughts was the remembrance of the owners of those two voices standing over hits body, hurting it in ways its husband had hurt it long ago, laughing at its pitiful pleas and not caring.

The pain of those memories obscured a deeper, buried memory; that of a snarling, feral man standing over her body as another man, this one with cybernetic limbs, reprogrammed her mind to believe that the snarling Sabretooth was actually someone else, different men she knew and cared for. A brown-haired man with odd red-and-black eyes and a Cajun accent; another with pristine white wings and startling blue skin; one made of ice; one whose eyes were hidden behind ruby glasses; one who had kindly eyes and quiet authority, who commanded from a wheelchair; and foremost among those, a man with dark hair that peaked on either side of his head, whose gruff crusty exterior masked a soft, caring heart. She had cared for all those, once upon a time; then the Reaver known as Pretty Boy had taken the torments heaped on her and reprogrammed her mind to believe that the pain inflicted had been at the hands of the ones she loved. Unable to pierce the illusions with the small telepathic powers gifted to her, she fled to the farthest corner of her mind and hid there.

Logan broke the link with Charles first, exhausted and heartbroken. "She's gone. She has to be; if she weren't she'd have come to me. What do we do?"

Hank looked sad. "Charles, we have to try to save the children. They're still alive in there, we might be able to save them. Can you call Sara's obstetrician and get her to come here? It's only four weeks until Sara's due date; if Sara's dying delivering the children could be the only chance we have to save them before they die with her."

Charles nodded, his heart heavy. "I'll call her tomorrow. She knows who Sara is, and that she's one of us. I don't think we'll have a problem getting her to come out here to deliver Sara's children; as long as we hide the Shi'ar equipment we should be okay."

Sara's doctor arrived at the mansion the next afternoon, fresh from the hospital delivering another baby. She listened to Hank's diagnosis grimly, did a brief examination to confirm it, and nodded reluctantly. "I don't see any other way to save the children. Are you sure she's no longer 'home'?" she asked Jean.

Jean nodded. "We're sure. Charles called and called, and Logan called for her, and she didn't respond."

The woman snorted. "Well of course she's not going to answer, they're men. I don't care how much she loves him, after what she went through she's not going to want to have anything to do with a man. Have _you_ tried to call her?"

"Whatcha mean, 'what she went through'?" Logan asked her.

Doctor Graham explained. "She might have a healing factor, but the signs of rape in a woman's body don't disappear that quickly," she said. "Her insides have been stretched all out of shape. She was raped, and it had to have been painful, considering how far along she is. That and the wounds you say she had on her body, and this deep cut," she traced the faint red line across Sara's swollen belly, "tell me she was probably hurt badly too. All things considered, if it were me I would probably hate men, too."

Jean said, "So I should try to call her?"

Doctor Graham nodded. 

Jean slipped into the top layer of Sara's mind easily, and found herself in the same featureless void Xavier had found himself in. **Sara!** She called. **Sara, come back! You're safe! You're home, with us! Your children need you, Sara, they're ready to come out, and you have to help them!**

The tiny spark listened to the faint voice from where it hid. It knew that voice. That voice belonged to a very dear, trusted friend. And if that voice was saying it was all right, then it probably was, and she was safe. She 'ran' swiftly toward that voice, following it, and suddenly found itself wrapped in warmth, light, and a feeling of comfort and safety. Jean 'towed' Sara back to her body, and as Sara settled into her body and took a deep breath independent of the machines that kept her alive.

A restrained cheer went up, and Sara's eyes flew open. She saw Jean, and Doctor Graham behind her, but just past the two women she saw Logan, his face alight with joy. "Sara!" he flung himself at her, arms spread wide to embrace her.

She screamed and flung herself backward in a panicked retreat, scrambling off the table, scarcely realizing it when the needles in her veins tore themselves free. They healed even as she crawled backward, terror in her eyes as she stared at Xavier and Logan. "Please," she whimpered, hands coming up in a defensive gesture, "please don't come near me, please don't hurt me, please!" She cowered in the corner, moaning in terror, and Logan and Xavier stepped back, confused. Jean spoke telepathically to Xavier as she saw Sara's eyes poll upward, **Charles, I think you and Logan should leave. She's not going to calm down while you're in here. I guess Doctor Graham was right.**

They didn't argue, just meekly exited and waited in the observation room outside the medlab room Sara was in.

Jean moved to the crouching woman in the corner, speaking softly, comfortingly. Sara was in the process of uncurling and getting up when she suddenly groaned and doubled over, clutching her stomach. Jean looked at the doctor questioningly as she placed her hand on Sara's swollen belly. "She's going into labor," Doctor Graham said. "Up on the table, quickly!" the two women got Sara up on the table, and the obstetrician rigged a fetal monitor out of one of he electrodes that had been monitoring Sara's heartbeat.

The cries coming from Sara's room had gradually increased in volume over the last five hours. Logan paced back and forth, smoking one cigarette after another. By now the others had joined them, and a very few words were needed to update them all on Sara's condition. Now it was just waiting.

Logan tossed his empty pack into a wastebasket, and Gambit pulled a pack out of his pocket and handed him one. Xavier would normally have chided them both for smoking in the mansion, but on this occasion he was worried enough that he wished he could join them; anything would help the nervousness. Storm was sitting, looking at a magazine but not really seeing anything; Betsy had Sara's sword Chang in her hands and was polishing it, as she had done once before for her friend.

The hours dragged on. Sara's screams were almost at a fever pitch, now; Logan was muttering under her breath that he would never touch her again when suddenly the cries stopped. Jean and Doctor Graham's voices could now be heard, murmuring anxiously; then Sara screamed again, once, very weakly. They suddenly heard Jean's voice calling her, and Sara answering weakly. Seconds later, Jean came out, sweating and bloody.

"The babies aren't in the right position," she whispered hoarsely. "Sara's been pushing and pushing, but she just doesn't have the energy anymore to get them out. She's passed out twice. And Doctor Graham doesn't want to try a C-Section, Sara's lost too much blood already." Her weary shoulders shook with sobs, and Scott hugged her briefly, trying not to get blood on his shirt. "I don't think we can save all of them," she sobbed to Logan. "If it comes down to it, Logan, do you want us to try to save the children, or Sara?"

:_That won't be necessary.:_

It took a moment to realize where the voice was coming from.

"Chang? What can you do?" Betsy asked bitterly.

_:The energy stored in my soulstone can help. She can tap into that energy to help herself, and save the babies.:_

"But you haven't been in touch with her to replenish yours after the attack on the Professor," Betsy said. "You'll drain yourself. If I understand the way they work, if you drain yourself to the limit, you'll 'die', as it were."

_:Then if it come to that, so shall it be. I spent my whole life, all those centuries ago, making weapons that took life. It is fitting that my life should be given to save one. Or three, as this happens. Get me in there before there is nothing I can do.:_

Betsy and Jean went inside, carrying Chang, without further comment. Betsy nearly stopped in shock at what she saw. Sara, her legs propped up and apart with wadded towels, lay panting desperately on blood-soaked sheets, her fingers gripping the sides of the bed as she pushed with all her weakened strength. She looked at Jean with eyes full of helpless tears and whimpered, "I can't do this, oh, God, I can't do this."

"Here," Betsy laid Chang down on the bed beside her, ignoring Doctor Graham's sharp look. "Hang onto that, Sara. Chang said to draw on his stored power, on his and the soulstone you wear around your neck. Concentrate."

Sara closed her eyes, and before the three women's eyes that violet forcefield sprang into existence around her. But there was something different this time. Instead of pulling the energy from her to maintain itself, it was flowing into her, getting dim around her midsection as she drew on it to deliver the twins. 

For a while it seemed as though nothing was happening, and then, very slowly, as the forcefield around her dimmed almost to invisibility, they saw a dark head poke out between her legs. Doctor Graham took hold of the shoulders, crying encouragement as Sara drew on all her remaining strength and that of her bladed friend. Suddenly a small, perfect infant dropped into her hands. Doctor Graham placed the tiny girl infant in Betsy's hands with instructions to put it under a heat lamp she saw in a corner of the medlab where Hank was growing plants. Betsy swept the plant tray aside, and placed the red, wrinkly baby under the lamp.

"Her little brother is being stubborn," Doctor Graham noted as she slid her fingers into Sara's birth canal to reach the other child. "Come on, Sara, push!" Sara gave one more mighty effort, crying with the effort, and as she slumped onto the table, unconscious, the little boy came free of her body, (quickly followed by the afterbirth) squalling indignantly. The three women cheered, and carried him over to the lamp, where Doctor Graham now washed them, clipped the umbilical cords, and dressed them in two tiny newborn outfits Storm had brought down hours earlier.

Jean flew through the doors, carrying the little girl, her face alight. Betsy followed, carrying the little boy, and the doctor walked out after them, slapping Logan on the back. "Congratulation, Dad!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling, as Jean put Megan Catherine in one arm, and Betsy put Joshua Charles in the other. Logan stared at the two tiny bundles in his arms, and his eyes were suspiciously brght. "How is Sara?" he asked worriedly, following them back into the room. Sara slept, exhausted after the long labor, as the three women changed the sheets she lay on. As everyone left the sleeping mother, Betsy stopped to pick up Chang.

The sword felt different in her hand, and she glanced down in surprise. The violet stone in the hilt of the sword was dull, lifeless, lacking the inner fire and sparkle she'd always seen in the jewel. Chang was gone.


	9. Moving

Chapter 9: Moving

Sara sat in bed, holding Megan as the tiny baby girl sucked eagerly on her bottle, eyes closed.. "Does the newness ever wear off?" she whispered to Storm, who sat beside her bed holding Josh as he ate.

Storm laughed. "Not while they're that little," she said. "Now a year from now, that's a different story. You'll be wondering why you had children!"

Jean chuckled wryly as she came in, followed by Logan. "Time to get these little guys into bed," she said cheerfully, taking Josh from Storm as Logan approached the bed. Sara sat stiffly, uncomfortably, and actually flinched as his arm brushed hers as he took Megan from her. Jean didn't miss it, and without a word she got Storm and Logan out of the room as she sat in the vacated chair. "Sara, we have to talk," she said.

Sara twisted the folds on the blanket she was covered with, her eyes filling with tears. "Jean, I'm sorry, I try, but I can't," she wailed. "Every time I see him, my heart wants to kiss him, and hug him, and love him, but when I close my eyes I see the base, and the table…." She choked on her words. "And its not just him, it's all the guys. I can't relax around them and I don't know why! Jean, I stay here all the time because I can't bear to see any of them except Hank!"

Jean wrapped her arms around Sara. "I'm sorry, Sara. I've never been through anything even remotely close to what you've been through. Is there anything that you can think of might help?"

Sara looked apprehensive, and Jean said lightly, "Out with it."

"Well….I know you and Storm and Rogue and Betsy love helping out with the babies, and I'm really grateful, but I'd really like to get away from everyone for a while, just me and Josh and Meggie. Maybe being alone with them will help me sort out what's going on."

Jean sat back. She hadn't thought about that. "When Scott and I first got married we thought we needed some privacy," she said. "Charles fixed up the boathouse for us to live in. Do you think you could manage there?"

Sara shook her head despairingly. "It won't. I'm sorry, Jean. I just feel like I really have to get away from everyone."

Jean said. "All right…no, don't cry, Sara…we'll come up with something."

She broached the subject in the rec room that evening as Sara was in her room sleeping and the babies were sleeping. Oddly enough, it was Logan who came up with a solution.

"I seen a li'l house just outside o' town," he said. "It's been fer rent fer a long time; before all this happened I was thinkin' o' talkin' Sara inta rentin' it and we could live there fer a while till Josh and Meggie stop wakin' everybody up in the middle o' the night. It ain't too far from here, an' you girls could pop over there whenever ya wanna see the kids. Now maybe Sara could rent it fer herself an' have a place ta stay while she gets whatever Creed did outta her head."

Jean ran upstairs and tapped on the door lightly. "Sara? Still awake?" 

Sara sat up and put her book aside. "Yeah, Jean," she said as her friend pushed open the door. "What's up?"

Jean sat on the end of the bed. "There's a little house for rent just outside of town. How do you feel about moving there until you get over this?"

Sara sat up in bed, eyes shining, looking a little more like her old self. "Yes, I'd like that!" she exclaimed.

"Then let's see what we can do tomorrow about getting it rented for you tomorrow, shall we?"

Sara was enchanted by the house, a pretty little rancher set back from the road by a bit of lawn. There was a wide backyard with a sandbox and a kid's swing set. There were three rooms inside, one master and two smaller rooms. 

Uncomfortable around the guys, she and Storm took the twins out to the mall to get a bed, drapes, and other small items. By the time they got back, all of her things had been moved from her room at the mansion to the master bedroom in the cottage, and the twins' cribs had been put in the second room. The third room was full of their toys and things that had been given to them by members of the other teams.

Logan had spent the time overseeing the moving of her things. He had arranged her room the way he knew she would like it so she wouldn't have to move anything; he knew her. If she wasn't happy with anything she would try to move it herself, and it wasn't a good idea at this point, as she'd only had the twins three weeks ago. 

He kept telling himself not to feel bad, but the truth was that he did feel bad. He loved her; and having just gotten her back, he didn't want to let her go. It hurt knowing she was going to be so far from him. It hurt that she didn't love him anymore…no, truth, he told himself, she did still love him, she just couldn't get past whatever it was that Sabretooth had done to her.

"Sabretooth," he growled under his breath as he watched Sara and Jean hanging curtains in the front window from his vantage point across the road, "Ya better hope you an' I never meet again, cause if we do ain't nothin' on this earth gonna keep me from killin' ya. Ya done crossed the line this time." And he jammed his hat down over his head and started up his truck, driving away with a heart full of pain.

Note to the Reader:

I thought about ending the story here, because I don't want to throw the story too far away from any current storyline the actual comics might be doing at this point. In the end of the previous book I broached the subject, and got some feedback on whether the story should end here or whether Sara and Logan should eventually get back together. So, because I got very varied opinions on what should happen, I wrote another chapter after this one; not much, just a few pages, and decided to insert this note as a warning. If you're one of those who prefer not to have a copyrighted character 'mixing it up' with someone else's original character, then stop reading right here. However, if you're the type who hate a sad ending (like me! This qualifies as a sad ending compared to the stuff I usually write) then by all means read on to the last chapter! 


	10. Happily Ever After

Chapter 10: Happily Ever After

It wasn't as bad as everyone thought it was going to be; when Sara had to go to work, or on business trips Jean would bring the twins back to the mansion, and the X-Men would baby-sit. Or rather, Logan would baby-sit. He loved his children so much it was hard for the others to watch when she came back from work and took the kids back with her.

Months passed like this, and while the others in the mansion got used to life the way it was, two people never lost sight of why Logan never smiled anymore; himself and Betsy. Betsy, in particular, felt the loss. In the flurry of the birth, and moving, and all the rest, she had quietly sent a message to the Buddhist monks telling them what had happened. Her letter took a long time getting there, and a return answer took even longer getting back. When she did finally receive it, it said simply, "The sword is hers; she may keep it. We hope Master Chang's sacrifice was not in vain."

The problem was that it had been in vain, at least from Betsy's point of view. Chang had drained himself so that Sara and Logan could have each other in the kind of life each had always wanted. And now, because of Sara's stubbornness it looked like life wasn't going to fall into place for Logan. It irritated her, but she didn't know what to do about it.

One wild night eight months after Sara had moved out, they got a knock at the door. Sara stood at the front door, dripping rain, holding Meggie and pushing Josh in a stroller, and looking frantic, because Meggie was blue.

"She was playing around, and one of her toys came apart. The string holding her wooden beads together broke, and she got one stuck in her throat. I telepathically knocked her out to keep her from panicking, but I don't know how to get it out! Where's Hank?" She was desperate, and as Jean took a wet, crying Josh from his stroller Betsy took Sara down to the medlab at a dead run. Jean had forewarned Hank, and so he had everything ready when she rushed down there at a dead run.

It was only a matter of a few minutes until Hank got the bead out of Meggie's throat and Sara could relax. Jean took Josh up to see his dad, and Betsy and Sara went to the kitchen.

"Nearly gave me a heart attack, seeing you come running up like that," Betsy said as she put a kettle on for hot tea and put two tea bags in cups on the counter. "If you moved back in here you wouldn't have to brave the weather like that for emergencies. There's a hurricane on its way here, you know."

"I know the hurricane's coming here, but I didn't know how to get an object out of a throat that tiny! I know how to do the Heimlich on adults and older children but I didn't know how to do it on Meggie!"

Betsy poured the hot water on the tea bags and handed a cup to Sara. "Move back in here."

"I can't, Betsy, you don't know…" Sara played nervously with the tag on her tea bag.

"I don't know what?" Betsy challenged, sitting down across from Sara and staring at her. "I don't know what?"

"It's just…I get these dreams…"

"Let me in." it was more command than request, and Sara, surprised and tired, dropped her shields rather than argue any further.

Betsy probed Sara's mind. Under the panic of her recent emergency, Sara's mind was strangely skewed. Betsy began examining her memories of what had happened at the Reavers' base. She saw Sara, lying there, writhing in torment under a pair of hands belonging to…

"Gambit?" she nearly fell off her chair. Sara started to shut her shields down, but Betsy grabbed hold of her mind, letting herself in before Sara could shut her out. And she saw the face of Sara's tormentor change; to Warren, to Scott, and finally, to Logan.

It was all so wrong! Betsy probed deeper, trying to figure out where everything had gone so wrong, and deep in Sara's mind, buried there by Pretty Boy, was the answer to eight months of anguish; he had raped her mind as Sabretooth raped her body, planting false images and memories into Sara's mind. Then he buried it all under another wave of brainwashing, making Sara believe that it had all happened and Xavier had wiped her memory to keep her from knowing. Betsy grabbed Sara mentally and forced her to look squarely at those memories; then she peeled back the illusions and programming and showed Sara who was really under that mask.

Sara made a strangled sound, something between disbelief and relief. "They didn't," she whispered, looking at Betsy with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Charles didn't. _Logan didn't!!_ Why did they do that to me?"

"To keep you and he apart, so that they could hurt him." Betsy said. She chose her next words carefully. "Are you going to let them win?"

Sara dropped the tight shield she had wrapped around the little spot way deep in her soul and felt the warmth of her psychic link with Logan flood her mind. She'd been a stupid idiot. Logan loved her so much, there was no way he would have ever done that to her!

Upstairs, Logan was sitting on his bed, tossing Josh in the air and tickling him as the little boy squealed and waved his arms. "Dadadada!" he burbled happily. Logan was about to toss the little boy in the air again when he felt something shift inside him, and a voice he'd missed for eight long months spoke in his head with a well-remembered endearment he'd almost given up hope of hearing ever again. **Dearling?**

"Sara?" he said aloud, and Jean looked at him, quizzically. Then she felt the brush of Sara's mind against his as the other woman slipped into the room, and Josh was left hanging in midair as Logan and Sara locked gazes for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Jean quietly slipped the little boy out of his father's arms and took him out of the room, to see Storm next door.

His parents never noticed. "Logan," Sara whispered, even as he began, "Sara," and they both laughed nervously. She gestured him to go first, and he said quietly, "Sara, I don't blame ya fer bein' upset with me. I'm sorry I wasn't there ta help ya. I'm sorry fer what Creed did to ya--"

Sara cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that effectively stopped his words. "Logan," she said, pressing her forehead to his, "I'm the one who should be sorry. The Reavers messed with my head while Sabretooth was messing with my body, and they made me believe it was you that was hurting me, not him. It was a shock, and I withdrew into myself. I heard you calling me when I was hiding from the pain. I heard Charles too, but I was lost in the brainwashing and I was afraid. Dearling, if I'd taken a minute and really thought about it, I would have realized you could never have done such things to me. Will you forgive me?"

"Nothin' ta fergive," Logan said, his voice husky with emotion, as he leaned down to kiss her.

The storm raging outside had a companion in the room, because Sara forgot to shield.

"So it's the boathouse?" Sara asked a long while later, when they were done changing their sheets.

'Yeah," Logan said. "Darlin', ya keep fergittin ta shield an' we keep getting' soaked. Nuff's nuff."

Sara giggled. "I don't see Storm giving up her mischievous streak on our account, not even for our…reunion…"

Logan chuckled, and Sara giggled as her head, lying on his chest, went up and down with the motion of his lungs. "Darlin', Storm's just happy we patched things up," he said. "So's everybody else, unless I miss my guess."

"Yeah," Sara giggled again, her eyes going blank for a second as she telepathically 'checked' on the kids. "Jean got Josh to sleep on the bed in what used to be my room. Meggie's asleep in the infirmary. Let's go to sleep now, and we'll get everything set up in the morning."

"Okay, darlin'. But first…" Logan got up, padding across the carpet on bare feet, and Sara watched with appreciation the play of hard muscles under the smooth skin of his back. And parts south.

He slipped back between the sheets holding something in his hand. "Sara…will you wear this again?"

The moon came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the small object he had picked up from his dresser, and Sara saw it was her ring. She took it, slipped it on, and sealed their love with a kiss. "Happily ever after?" she whispered drowsily some time later.

"Happily ever after…" he agreed.


End file.
